


A Tale of Two Men

by FanGirlyGlee



Series: Who We Are and Who We Love [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlyGlee/pseuds/FanGirlyGlee
Summary: This is another one about Ray and Mick separately, but eventually together.  It starts with the past of both men before they even come aboard the Waverider. It's an exploration of how each man's life experiences have shaped how they view both love and sex.  It's overall mature, but there are explicit bits.





	1. Love, Lust, and Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: I take some liberties with my depiction of Ray's home life and family dynamic. Season 4 might blow this out of the water, but I view Sydney and Ray as twins being raised by a single mother after their father walks out on them for his own reasons. I'm also weaving in the concept of Ray being bisexual and a sexual submissive. Right now the BDSM is discussed, but not dwelt on.

“Mom, you need to buy a Barbie for Ray.”

“Why's that Sydney?”

“He just needs one. He made Luke Skywalker kiss Han Solo.”

“Oh.”

A seven-year-old Ray Palmer hurried into the kitchen to clear up any misunderstanding. “It's okay, Mom,” he said quickly. “They're married.”

Sydney made a face. “Boys can't marry boys, stupid.”

“They can too! Han Solo can do anything. Tell him, Mom”

Sandy Palmer looked at her son and smiled sadly. “Actually Ray, they can't. Let's have a talk honey.”

After a short conversation that turned out to have nothing at all to do with either birds _or_ bees, Ray gave his mother a big hug. “Okay, Mom, I understand now. When I grow up I'll marry a lady and I'll never do anything to make her sad and cry like you do sometimes after we see Dad.”

**xxx**

Ray always felt he was different from other kids his age. He knew he was smarter than his classmates, but his mother reminded him not to confuse that with being better. For what it was worth, the fake coughs and knowing looks shared by a dozen thirteen-year-olds in health class had confirmed that he wasn't the only one dealing with the _challenges of his changing body_. Ray did wonder if he was the only one making up rules for how it ought to be done. At first he figured it was best to get it done in the morning, before anyone else was up because there was less chance of being interrupted and he could take a shower right away. The Frederick's of Hollywood catalog that had been delivered, in error, to the Palmer house was a godsend. He had no idea there were so many options when it came to ladies' under garments, and he was sure those nighties weren't going to keep them warm in the winter. From time to time he looked over the two or so pages devoted to menswear only to hope that someday he had a body like the models pictured; one a girl would want to look at, even with so little of it covered up.

Eventually he decided doing it at night was all right, and it was fine if he used his hand instead of rubbing against a folded up blanket as long as he washed up right afterward. Ray began to wonder if twice was normal. He spent a Saturday afternoon at the public library, trying to look casual as he ducked between the tall stacks of books to find the shelf devoted to human sexuality. He grabbed the first title he could find on male sexuality and read it he had to leave when the library closed. Ray learned while men might not be able to marry other men, that didn't stop some from doing a good many things other things. Of cousres he knew that it wasn't _required_ that a man and woman to get married before they engaged in sexual activity, but Ray still thought it was still a good idea, especially before they did some of the things he had to look up in the dictionary. The next weekend he read a book on female sexuality. Girls, it seemed, were more complicated and had more parts that needed attention. He wanted to take notes for future reference, but fearful that Sydney would find them, he attempted to memorizing the main points instead.

xxx

Turning sixteen did not magically create opportunities for Ray to apply any of his knowledge regarding human sexual interaction, but the internet did make it easier to expand his education. Unfortunately the family computer was located just outside the kitchen, making it necessary for Ray to swivel his head around periodically to ensure his privacy. As much as he liked the idea of sex, he knew he wasn't ready yet and since he didn't have a girlfriend it was a moot point. “You're a late bloomer, Honey,” his mom said kindly, ruffling the hair he was trying to grow out so he could try get it to look Keanu Reeves' on the cover of People magazine. “Just be patient and don't worry. There's a girl out there who's going to see just how special you are.”

Ray certainly didn't feel very special, at least not in a good way. At times he felt like his brain was out of control. Once in a while he would have fantasies about the girls in his class. He wondered if the ones who went to tanning salons took off their tops, or were their breasts still – he stopped himself there. It didn't feel right to objectify someone like that. Pep rallies were already awkward without the added complication of picturing people he knew naked.

One afternoon, on the way home from school, he was riding his bike under the freeway overpass where he spotted a large plastic bag just off the path. Ray stopped to check that it didn't contain a bunch of abandoned kittens. What he found was not a helpless animal, but a treasure trove of pornography. He quickly looked around for other people, concerned that it was some sort of trap. His heart pounded as he grabbed a handful of the less water damaged magazines and stuffed them into his backpack. Once he was safe at home he locked his bedroom door and spread them out on the floor. There were a couple Playboys, a Hustler, and some old black and white compilations with large starburst patterns covering various orifices. But the one that intrigued him the most didn't even have very many pictures. Instead it listed dozens of addresses for people to contact each other to have sex that apparently involved masks and being tied up. He found himself staring at the woman on the front cover for several minutes. She wasn't even naked, and she looked kind of mean, but Ray was entranced. The caption said that she was a demanding mistress. She was pictured sitting on the back of a man who was blindfolded and on all fours. Ray didn't know why, but he was suddenly very sure that he would like very much to be in that man's place. He read every ad placed by men and women across the country that promised they could to teach new “submissives” how to serve. At night he laid in his bed trying to imagine what the woman would make him do if she were his mistress. Ray had a college-ruled notebook with pages of sex acts defined and categorized as  _safe_ or requiring condoms. He spun elaborate fantasies in his head where he would be taught to perform them all by a mysterious woman who knew all the rules, and would make sure he obeyed them.

xxx

By the time his mother hung up the phone, her eyes already red rimmed from crying. “Mom, what is it? Is Sydney okay? Is it Grandma?”

He wrapped his arms around his her trembling shoulders and hugged her tightly.

“I'm sorry, Ray,” she sobbed. “It's your dad. He's gone.”

“Yeah, he's been gone for awhile-oh. Um, it's okay, Mom. We'll be okay.”

Ray was confused. His parents had been separated for years. He didn't see how it was possible that she still loved the man who'd left her.

 

**xxx**

 

It was the second semester of his sophomore year of college and twice before Ray had talked himself out of losing his virginity. He was lucky Kelly had decided to give him a third chance. He lay motionless on his narrow dorm room bed as she unzipped his khakis. This was it, she was really going to see him – all of him. “Nice pipe for a skinny guy, Palmer,” she remarked as she began to remove her own clothing. He hoped that from a chemical engineering major that was some sort of compliment. “Now let's see if it fits.”

Thankfully everything did fit like it should and Kelly seemed fine with taking the lead. Ray was thankful for that because his mind was racing with a thousand thoughts; 999 of them being that people should do this all time. He looked up at her, awed by how beautiful she looked and how he could scarcely she wanted to do this wonderful thing with him. This was why it was called making love. Wait, did he love her? Did she love him?

 Kelly didn't love him, but that was okay because it turned out Catherine didn't really mean _study_ when she asked him to be her study partner for P-chem. She didn't love him either, but then Ray wasn't sure he could ever love someone who didn't like Star Wars.

Jody said graduation was in a month and then they'd probably never see each other again so what would be the point in worrying about feelings. Ray had to admit that was a very practical view. Besides everyone fooled around in college. It didn't make him a bad person.

 He spent a summer at home before leaving for grad school and got some attention from girls who had begun to notice “that weird Ray kid” had grown into a nicely built young man.

Ellen was his first summer fling. She invited him to spend the weekend at her parents' cabin, and made it clear they weren't going to do a lot of hiking. “You're so gentle,” she whispered as he unhooked her bra. Ray looked in her eyes and saw that wasn't what she was looking for.

“Show me how you want me to be,” he pleaded. She pushed him onto his back and play wrestled him in front of the fireplace until Ray gave up and let her pin his arms above his head as she proceeded to rub herself against him for as long as she liked. He touched her where and how she told him and was never happier to not have to make a decision. He might have felt a tiny bit guilty that he didn't have romantic feelings for her. But he was learning more about how to make a woman feel good, something his future wife would probably be glad for.

 Letting the guy he shared a lab with give him a hand job after they'd successfully defended their dissertations was a tad close to the good/bad line for Ray's comfort. He'd read enough social science papers to know that exploration of sexual boundaries, and experimentation with same gender partners was still very common for his age group. So doing it a few more times, again for the experience, was probably fine. Plus it wasn't polite to let Dave do all the work.

 When Ray moved to Silicon Valley he found a decent apartment next door to a dynamite lady named Geneava. Judging by the number of people visiting at all hours he deduced she was running an in-home business of some kind. Being neighborly, Ray asked what it was she did for a living. As they folded their respective clothes in the basement laundry room she told Ray she was a dominatrix. “Oh,” was all he could think to say in response. It was a week before he got up the courage to knock on her door and asked to make an appointment.

 All week Ray looked forward to his sessions with Geneava. Being dominated not only gave him physical satisfaction, but let him go new places in and outside his head. Being bound and gagged made him calm and once released he found himself better able to focus his mental energy. He knew that some of the things she did weren't strictly legal given that he paid her to do them, and beyond that a fair number of people would consider them immoral. Those concerns typically evaporated in the midst of the explosive orgasms he gave himself after a session. Being tied to a bench in Geneava's spare bedroom being spanked with the back of a hairbrush for twenty minutes made many things seem unimportant. Since he'd started working out at the gym Ray had become less shy about his body. He would even occasionally do scenes with other submissives. His teenage dreams came true as he made a blindfolded woman scream with pleasure using only the tip of his tongue.

 Outside of their professional arrangement Ray and Geneava became friends. She encouraged him not to isolate himself and continue to date _vanilla_ women. Her support gave him hope that it wasn't out of the realm of possibility to find someone who would want to love **and** dominate him. Ray was hopeful when he started going out with Hazel. They'd met at the gym and shared a mutual hatred of refined sugar. The second time he stayed over at her apartment he'd asked her to tell him if there was anything special he could do for her. She asked if he'd mind wearing a pair of her panties. It felt strange at first, having his genitals covered by delicate, feminine underwear, but it was all in fun. When Hazel bought him his own set they were both excited for him to try them on. The first time he wore them under his work clothes he could barely concentrate. All day long he knew he had a naughty secret and in the evening he told her all about how it drove him crazy. Dinner almost burned because she couldn't keep her hands off him, stroking him through the sheer fabric and dipping her fingers between his buttocks. They dated for three months before she got transferred to New York.

 Things changed when Geneava's boyfriend, Roman, moved in with her. They were lovers but he was also her submissive. Roman was a nice guy, and very open about how he liked not being the one in charge in the bedroom or anywhere else really. He and Geneava would often tease Ray by suggesting he should join them in the bedroom some night. They liked the way it made him blush. Then one night he realized they weren't entirely joking. Ray had just finished figuring out what he needed to do to start his own company. He was feeling bold, and said yes.

 Geneava would put the two men under her control in all sorts of predicaments. She could be harsh, but was fair with her punishments, and always respected safe words. She liked for Ray pin her lover down and penetrate him while he fussed and pretended it was awful. Sometimes they would compete to be the most obedient subs, and win the right to worship their mistress as she deserved. It was fun, but as time went on it made him feel lonely.

At the end of their playtime she would kiss them both, but then Ray would go back to his own apartment while Roman slept next to the woman he loved. Ray decided it was time to get serious about his professional life. He would have to set aside that sort of fun for a bit.

 xxx

He fell for Anna hard and fast. She was smart and funny and liked him, but didn't let him fawn over her. “You can stop trying to impress me now, Ray,” she would tease. “I already think you're amazing.” It wasn't even a month before Ray knew to his core that she was the love of his life. Nothing about the past mattered. He would finally be the man he was meant be – her husband. Before she moved in he boxed up the leather harnesses and bondage erotica. He didn't need that with Anna. They shared so many other things; her love of art, and his inventions. They could talk for hours about everything and nothing. She believed that together they could change the world. His would never be the same.

 xxx

 Ray held Sandy's frail hand as she lay in the hospice facility. She never stopped fighting, but in the end the cancer couldn't be beat. She wasn't in pain, but seldom lucid because of the medication. “You'll be fine, Ray. Soon you'll have a family of your own to worry about. Anna's a wonderful woman and I can see how happy you make each other. I'm so glad you won't be alone any more my sweet, sensitive boy.” He couldn't bear to remind her that Anna had been dead for three months. He tried so hard not to cry.

 After the funeral Sydney didn't want anything to do with the old house in Ivy Town. Ray boxed up the bits of his childhood his mother had held on to for him, pretending he didn't know she'd kept his room the way it was in hopes of having grandchildren visit. By the time he got to her room he was numb. He moved mechanically, boxing up clothes and family pictures, trying not to think about anything. It was just like packing up Anna's belongings. Someone who was supposed to there forever was gone and all that remained were their things.

 In the back of the closet he found a box of letters his mother and father had written to each other. He read them all, alternating between rage and grief. Ray didn't understand how his father could have been so stupid. He had a wife who loved him, children – a home – a life! He threw that all away because he _thought_ he'd made a mistake. Ray knew he was **not** a mistake. He was going to do amazing things and he would never be as short-sighted as his father. He would always choose love no matter how hard it might be. Ray threw the letters in the garbage along with his father's death certificate.

The hospital recommended that Ray see a therapist during his recovery. Doctor Garvey was a pleasant person who let Ray pour out his feelings and waited patiently if he couldn't hold back tears. “Ray, at the end of our last session you mentioned Anna's wedding dress. Did you want to talk more about that?”

Ray was holding their framed engagement photo and focused on how happy they both looked. “She said she didn't intend to be a boring wife so she didn't want a boring dress. Red was her favorite color. We were going to get married at Christmastime.”

“What happened to that dress, Ray?”

“I burned it,” he replied flatly. “I couldn't stand to see it in the closet any longer.”

“That's understandable.”

Ray put the picture in his briefcase. “I'm glad someone agrees with me. Her mother wanted her to be buried in it. Anna wanted to be cremated, but since I wasn't her husband yet I didn't get to decide. You know, I think I'm doing much better Doctor Garvey. This will probably be our last session.”

The therapist looked skeptical. “Ray, I'm glad you're dealing with your grief appropriately, but I think there is more we could work on. Your parents' deaths...”

“That's in the past, Doctor. I have to look forward, right? I have a company to run, and a city to save.

 


	2. I Got Love and Anger They Come as a Pair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The progression of Ray's love life from Felicity to Kendra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - I crap on Kendra big time. Yeah I get that she was in a difficult position, but like Felicity, if she'd been more honest with herself then she would have seen that letting things progress with Ray wasn't fair to either of them. They done my boy, Ray, wrong.

Ray honestly never worried about pinning down his sexual orientation. He was acquainted with same-sex couples in very loving relationships so clearly it was _possible_ he could fall in love with a man. It just hadn't ever happened. He also knew it didn't line up well with his end goal of being a married and settling down some day. It was ironic how traditional he was in many ways despite not believing in pre-defined gender roles. He wanted to be with someone who was his equal, except sometimes in bed – most of the time if he was being honest.

Felicity was special. Not only was she the first person he'd felt attracted to since losing Anna, she was clearly on his level intellectually. The endless potential of a collaboration with her made his mind race. Ray didn't mean to fall for her so fast, but he couldn't help it. She understood him so well and of course she was funny and sweet and sexy.

Being with Felicity made Ray felt like his old self again. Sure he was still the CEO of Palmer Tech and the sort of sophisticated gentleman who knew what jewelry went with the amazing dress he'd gotten for her. But deep down, he was just a man who wanted to make people happy. And making love to Felicity was a perfectly natural thing that made them both very happy. Ray reveled in the little moans she made when he lifted her up and pressed her back against the wall; her legs wrapped around his waist. She reminded him how amazing it was to be alive. Ray never told her about what he thought of as his _special preferences_. That could wait. There was so much going on with Team Flash, Oliver and the A.T.O.M. suit.

After Felicity saved his life he knew he couldn't afford to waste any of the precious time he'd been given. “I love you,” he told her earnestly, holding her hand. He knew she didn't love him yet, but he couldn't wait any longer. The feeling had been building up inside him for days and if he didn't let it out he was sure his heart would burst.

All too soon he knew he was losing her. He couldn't even be mad. He'd gone head over heels and tried to take her with him. It wasn't hard to see why she loved Oliver. He was smart and strong with a cool head and a strong sense of purpose. He'd already been trying to save Starling City and clearly needed Felicity more than Ray. Ray would have to move in another direction. He knew he could make the A.T.O.M. suit work like he wanted. He just had to take a chance. He very much wanted to be friends with Felicity. Ray hated when relationships ended and both parties were just _through_ with each other as if what they'd shared wasn't an important part of who they were. 

The first time he saw a professional dominant in Starling City he was nervous, and not just because it was his first time with a male dom. For once he didn't want to submit for his own pleasure, but because he felt he deserved punishment. He'd failed. Sure the suit shrunk, but he'd blown up part of his building and gotten himself captured by Damien Dahrk. His dreams of being a hero seemed foolish and he needed to rethink things. When the whip cracked and made the first stripe on his back he felt like he could breathe again. Ray was worked over until he collapsed and begged to kneel at Sir Alex's feet. He made another appointment for a week later. Sir Alex wasn't averse to Ray's curious questions and spent a portion of their time answering them as best he could. He also suggested new things Ray might want to try. Ray knew he didn't want to grovel and lick boots. He also didn't think he was a masochist, despite enjoying some application of pain. He wanted to serve; to take pleasure in giving it to others. He might be naughty at times, but liked being told he was good. Sir Alex suggested some Daddy-boy role playing, and it quickly struck a chord with Ray. It was like with Geneava but starting all over again, learning how his body responded to rougher touches and firm guidance.

Ray knew it wasn't terribly responsible to use what was left of his resources – until he could be declared alive again - on someone who was only pretending to want him. It kept his mind occupied and helped him avoid disastrous liaisons like the week and a half with a woman named Heather. The sex was wonderfully uncomplicated but she had way too many cats. Then he received an intriguing message someone named Rip Hunter and thought he might see a way out of his current malaise.

**xxx**

The sheer irony of being strung up and tortured in the Soviet prison was not lost on him. Mick probably thought he'd gone off the deep end when he started laughing. Ray didn't exactly have time to explain that some people paid good money for a less tetanus-laced version of what they were having to endure. Ray was strangely proud that he was able to take a real beating. It had not felt good in the slightest. It wasn't pain given for the sensory experience, or to punish or teach a lesson. It was muscle-tearing, bone crushing, nerve jangling agony. Ray knew one thing was for sure – he was off electro play for life. He hadn't meant to get philosophical on Mick, but he meant what he said. There were things worth dying for.

After they were rescued, Kendra had fussed over him a bit, which he enjoyed immensely. Ray's pursuit of the Waverider's resident barista/priestess was almost an accident. True, she was beautiful, but Ray had been around attractive women before and didn't make a fool of himself over _all_ of them. He felt the need to compete with Jax, a younger man, for her attention. He needed confirmation that he was still desirable. When she kissed him he felt like cheering, even with his eyelashes frozen solid.

Then they were stranded in the past, but at least they had each other. Ray and Kendra had a home, jobs, and a fake marriage because respectable people simply did not cohabitate in 1958. It was a strange life, but it was theirs.

Their first Christmas together Ray was determined not to let bad memories make him bring him down and ruin the mood. He made egg nog, and after three cups decided he should be completely honest with his faux-spouse. “You know how I'm always asking you what I can do for you, especially in bed?”

“Uh huh.” Kendra wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music playing on the radio.

“I like it when you tell me what you want me to do. I mean _really_ like it, and it would be even better if you **made** me do things.”  
“Hmm, I can handle that.”

“You can?”

“Uh-huh. So, do we have to be in bed or...”

“No, just tell me you want to play and I'm good. Then you tell me when and where.” She gave him a wicked look.

“In that case I think you can lie back right here in our living room floor and I'll make myself at home.” Ray's body shook with joyful anticipation as she lifted her skirt and settled in with her thighs around his neck.

“We should probably get some sleep,” Ray suggested some time later, nuzzling Kendra's neck.

“Don't you want to...?”

“I'm fine,” he said unconvincingly with his erection rubbing against her thigh.

“Ray, is there a reason we're not having sex tonight, or not at all lately?”

“I'm pretty sure we've been having sex for a while now,” he replied, kissing her nose.

“You know what I mean. If I have to say it that's fine. Why aren't we having intercourse? You've been avoiding it for awhile now.”

“I'm trying to be considerate,” he explained. “It's been months, and we don't know how much longer we're going to be here. Birth control options are limited and I don't want you to have to risk it.”

Kendra rested her forehead on his. “That's amazingly thoughtful, as always. But you did manage to find the one pharmacy in town that carries condoms and beyond that we'll deal with whatever comes.”

His smile lit up the room. “Really? We've never talked about whether you wanted to have children – let alone if you would want to with me.”

“You'll be a wonderful father, Ray, if it comes to that. And I'm not about to give up making love with you however I like. Besides, there are other things we could do if you're that worried.”

He grinned. “I know, I could do that all day for you.”

“I'd need a break, even if you don't. But I meant something else.” Kendra guided his hand around her waist and then downward.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I didn't even think about that. I've never done it; not with a woman anyway.”

“Raymond Palmer, is there something I need to know?”

He chuckled nervously. “Not very much to tell. It was only a handful of times. I'm probably not very good at it.”

Kendra captured his ear lobe with her teeth. “Then let's get some practice.”

 

The day he was going to ask her to marry him started like usual. They got up, Kendra picked out a pair of panties for Ray to wear under his trousers, and he made breakfast for them. It wasn't easy finding his size in 1960, but they'd gotten very good at ordering things through the mail. Ray slipped the ring into the pocket of his suit jacket. He wanted it with him all day. His excitement was bubbling over by noon. He knew it was the right time to ask her to marry him. He'd shared everything about himself with her, and she'd accepted him entirely. He'd been blessed to find love once more.

“We can be ourselves again,” she said. Ray felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Was it all a lie – their lives; their love?

He fought through waves of nausea. Who did she think he was being if not himself? He still had the ring and no idea what to do.

After Kendra's outburst in Nanda Parbat, Ray had to work through his feelings alone. He didn't know how the life they'd made could have made him so happy and her miserable. Of course he was happy to be back on the Waverider with access to a proper lab, and gluten free food. He believed in the importance of their mission, and now that they had found poor Mick the team was back together. Kendra said she'd lost herself. Ray thought that was the point of love. Two people come together and forged a bond that made them stronger than either one alone. She said that her feelings hadn't changed. That was good. He couldn't bear the the thought that she'd been pretending; humoring him because she didn't think he could handle the truth. He wondered if maybe the reason she was having an easier time re-adjusting was that she'd already lived so many different lives.

The next morning Ray was getting dressed while Kendra stretched and yawned beside him. “You know, you don't have to wear those anymore,” she said, pointing to what she had always called granny panties. Ray was momentarily startled, and then his brain reminded him where and when he was. “I suppose you're right. I have lots of other choices now.” He pulled open a drawer to make a selection from more modern styles. The buttercup yellow pair he'd had Gideon fabricate was comfortable and allowed a full range of motion. Kendra continued.

“I mean, maybe you shouldn't right now. We're on and off the ship all the time. If something happened to your suit...”

Ray's heart sank. What she was saying was logical, but he got the impression she didn't want him to wear them at all anymore. He'd explained that he'd done so off and on for years since Hazel and Geneava because they made him feel special. “Things are so tense right now,” Kendra went on. “I just don't want you to be embarrassed.”

“It's fine. I understand.” He grabbed a pair of gray briefs instead. She seemed relieved and kissed his cheek.

“Let's go get breakfast.”

Ray was cheered. “What do you feel like this morning – eggs, or maybe pancakes?”

“You don't have to cook for me any more, silly.”

“Oh, right.”

 

He had to believe he could show Kendra he was the right man for her. He just had to be patient and understanding. He could see she was in a difficult position. It was good for her to spend time with Sara. They could talk about girl stuff and the proper way to remove your enemy's spleen or whatever passed for small talk with Sara. Then he almost died again, and accidentally proposed. She said yes! She could see how happy they would be together. He held her close that night, looking at the ring on her finger and trying desperately to swallow his fear. They were going to be together. History wouldn't repeat itself. It just wouldn't be fair.

Ray was so upset he couldn't breathe. He wanted to yell at her and cry at the same time. She'd promised – had let him go on hoping – only to break his heart piece by piece. Watching her speak to Carter with such passion and reverence, Ray knew he'd never had a chance. “I can't do this any more,” he told her. He'd given her all that he was and it wasn't enough. Despite telling Kendra he was glad to know he could love again, Ray was very afraid that his love would never be enough for anyone.

There was no time for self-pity. They had a mission to complete. He could worry about his future later. He wasn't even middle-aged yet. There was still time to get his life back on track; to make things like they were supposed to be.   
Then Rip said he'd seen the future and Ray was fated to die. The news was oddly comforting. His life would have had purpose; his death meaning. Mick didn't let him fulfill that destiny. Len, in turn, took the choice from Mick. No one knew what to say to Mick. Ray knew from experience that no words could ease the pain of such a devastating loss. Mick didn't need anyone's pity. He needed someone to be there for him like Len had. Ray decided he would look out for Mick until the other man found his way again. Plus there was no hurry to get off the Waverider and get back to his _real_ life. It was a time ship after all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole the title of this chapter from an Aimee Mann song.


	3. The Man He Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching to Mick's sordid past. Also some explicit content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is brief mention of activity believed to be non-consensual. It is in fact consensual.

Contrary to popular belief, and in opposition to his own claims that he was a heartless bastard, Mick Rory had feelings. He just didn't see the point in talking about them all the time. There had been more than enough of that when he was a kid and when he was locked up. Counselors told Mick they _knew_ he loved his family. What did it matter if he did? They were still dead. His mother had loved his father and stayed with him despite the drinking bad temper that made everyone around him miserable. His father had loved his mother enough to marry her and create a child, but not enough to be a decent person. Sometimes foster parents would say they loved him. That was generally before they had to make tearful calls to child protective services because he was just too much to handle what with the fires and all. As far as Mick was concerned, love never lasted long enough to be worth the trouble.

There was no love in the Central City Juvenile Correction Facility. There was fear, desperation, and need, but no love. Juvie was where Mick first realized the value of a reputation. The other delinquents were aware of the extra precautions taken by the staff so nothing that could even make a spark was left where he could get his hands on it. Mick wasn't the toughest guy in the place, but it benefited him if everyone believed he was the scariest. It meant he could spend less time watching his back, and ensured no one ever bothered him in his bunk at night. Some idiots might be willing to risk a beating from him, but no one wanted to be burned to death while they slept.

He met Snart when the stupid skinny kid let his mouth get him into a situation his fists weren't ready to get him out of. Unsure of his motivation, Mick walked in, grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tossed him out of harms way. Knocking a few heads together got the message across. The new kid was Mick's problem.  He wiped the blood off his face and retrieved a stunned Snart, dragging him off to a quiet corner to explain the facts of life in their present surroundings. “I'm not gonna suck your dick!” Len shouted by way of defiant introduction. Mick snorted.

“Boy, if I wanted you on your knees there ain't a damn thing you could do about it. But I ain't interested in your bony ass. Now shut up and follow my lead if you want to avoid finding yourself that position in the future.” Len shut his mouth and quickly became Mick's best friend. He made Mick laugh and never made fun of him. That alone was worth taking a few more punches meant for him over the years.

They turfed him when he was eighteen. He kissed a woman for the first time the day he was released. She was too old for him and too drunk for her own good. She took him home and promptly passed out. She seemed surprised he was still there in the morning, but didn't tell him to leave. She had food and cable, and let him screw her.  He had to move on in a couple months after she overdosed and the rent was coming due. He took some of her stuff and hocked it. Wasn't like she needed it anymore.

By the time he was twenty, things weren't working out too badly for Mick. He had a job he only hated half the time and an apartment. Actually he had a room in an an apartment, but it was his room and the stuff in it was his. Nobody could touch it. He'd put on weight from being able to eat decent food, and his job was physically demanding so he was building muscle. Girls - women – noticed him. Mick liked that a lot.

Sex was fun and uncomplicated, unlike dating. There were always had questions he didn't want to answer. Eventually he figured out how to tell the right lies that got him what he wanted. No one complained if he lit candles when they came to his room. In Mick's opinion, sex was always better with fire than without.  One night he got home around midnight and was in the process of making himself a sandwich when one word reached his ears. “No!” It was followed by a loud slapping sound that brought him back to a familiar unpleasant place. “No, please don't.” Mick's fists clenched. It wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't just ignore what he'd heard. He had few rules for himself, but at the top of the list was never hit a woman. He didn't think the other thing needed to go on a list. It was just plain wrong. He could have kicked his roommate's door in, but settled for knocking. There was some shuffling inside the bedroom and Brian opened the door a crack. “What do you want? I'm busy.”

Mick wasn't sure how to approach the issue. “What's goin' on in there?”

“I think it's pretty obvious,” Brian replied. “Jesus, Mick, can a guy fuck in peace?” Mick looked past him, over his shoulder, at the young woman in Brian's bed with covers pulled up to her neck. “You okay? I mean I heard some stuff.” Her eyes got wide, and she waved her hands in the air.

“Oh! No – I mean yes – I'm fine. We're just playing. I was only pretending.”

“Pretending to get hit?”

Brian laughed. “Just a smack on the ass, Mick. She likes that.”

Mick remained skeptical. “That true?”

She nodded. “I'm fine. I promise.”

Embarrassed he muttered an apology before retreating to his own room.

The next morning he ran into her outside the bathroom. “Hey, I'm sorry if we freaked you out last night. I, um, like it rough. Brian wasn't really hurting me.” Mick didn't need details, but he was a little curious.

“Didn't know girls liked stuff like that,” he admitted. She grinned.

“Some do. See these?” She pulled up her nightie to show the bruises on her thighs. Mick stared. “I love them,” she said dreamily. Mick shook his head. He couldn't comprehend how anyone would like being hurt.

xxx

His love of fire was an open secret in his small circle of friends and the bar where he hung out. Eventually someone asked the obvious. “You ever set any fires?”

“A few,” he replied warily.

“Big ones?”

“Maybe.”

“You want to earn some money setting a big one?”

Mick committed arson and insurance fraud at the age of twenty-three. He watched from across the street until the fire department came and then he retreated to his bar stool. He bought drinks for a chick who had been eyeing him the past couple times he'd been there. “My place,” he grunted; a demand not a suggestion.

He had commanded fire. He'd been hard for hours. When she pulled his dick out of his pants he slapped it against her cheek. She seemed sporting, and raised no objection to having her hair pulled so he could use her mouth. He pushed her back onto the bed and pushed her skirt up. “Gonna fuck you now,” he said matter of factly, pulling off her panties.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Please, do it to me, Mickey.”

He growled and smacked her rear. “My name is Mick.” She yelped, but didn't cuss him out or try to leave. “I'm sorry, Mick. Do me, Mick.”

Later it occurred to him that what he'd done was the very definition of  _ taking _ . It felt right. Taking what he wanted from life was what he going to do from then on. He ran into Snart again the next week. Len had a head full of ideas and not much else, but he was still a smooth talker and convinced Mick to help him with a string of burglaries. The payout was decent and Mick quit his day job. Unfortunately he got busted for possession of stolen property and did nine months in the county lock up. When he got out he and was even less inclined to work harder than he needed to for what he wanted. And after almost a year of lifting weights and perpetually acting tough, he had a certain look that could be put to use.

Snart got him a gig as hired muscle for a local house of ill-repute. Snart always had the best words. Mostly Mick read books and looked menacing, pausing occasionally to throw rowdy johns out on their ear. He learned that a lot of people liked it rough. The working girls and boys taught him useful stuff like how to tie a good knot, where not to hit someone if you wanted their kidneys to keep working, and how to revive someone who'd passed out.

Then Snart got a line on a good score. They pulled it off, but while they were supposed to be laying low Mick torched the car of a pimp who'd been beating his girls outside their flop. That earned him a trip to Iron Heights for two to five. He chafed at the restrictions and lost his lighter privileges after they caught him making tiny fires in his trash can. He was reduced to creepily staring at people when they lit cigarettes.  Mick eventually mastered looking both menacing and annoyed simultaneously. He hung out with lifers who were happy to pass on their knowledge of lock picking, disabling alarms, and how to deal with uncooperative colleagues. He also learned it didn't much matter who sucked his dick when he was horny and found it was a better idea to make someone his bitch than become one.

When he got out he looked up Snart right away. It was a great couple of years before they both landed back inside. When he got parole he was almost thirty.  He actually went to his first appointment with his parole officer and there he met Kip, a goofy kid who had gotten popped for intent to sell, but earned early release for good behavior. Now he was on the outside, but retained a fondness letting someone stronger than him make decisions for him. “My name's Kip,” he said, batting his eyelashes. Mick snorted.

“I'm sorry.”

“You're Mick Rory, right? I remember seeing you at Iron Heights. Do you have a place to stay? I have this loft that's pretty big for just me.” Mick felt pretty lucky getting a new apartment and a boyfriend in the same week.  Kip quickly decided that Mick was the best thing since Ecstasy and took every opportunity to let him know. When Mick returned from a job in Keystone Kip ran down the street to meet him, jumped into his arms, and kissed him noisily on the cheek. “Missed you, Daddy,” he exclaimed. Mick cuffed him upside the head.

“Calm down, kid,” he warned. “We're in public.”  In private Mick had a little more tolerance for Kip's youthful exuberance. They'd watch movies and football games wrapped up in each other on the couch and make out like teenagers. To say that Kip liked to be dominated would be an understatement. Mick liked getting his own way, especially in bed, but there were days he practically had to tell the kid when to take a piss. Snart raised an eyebrow at his friend's new accessory, but never criticized.  Snart had some good plans and Mick liked being an integral part of them. He'd spend nights drinking at Saints and Sinners with Kip on his knee, the boy's fingers wound through Mick's hair. “Love you, Daddy,” he'd whisper in Mick's ear.

“Ain't so bad yourself,” Mick replied with evident fondness.

Mick had deal with the kid's poor life choices, like when he walked in on Kip getting railed by strangers; for drugs or money Mick wasn't sure.

“You mad, Daddy?” Kip asked later, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“We ain't married. You can do what you want.”

However, the burning sensation when he peed was not a welcome addition to Mick's daily routine. That needed to stop.

“You gotta be safe,” he advised. Kip whined.

“They pay more if I don't.”

“And I don't pay you at all, is that it? I can take care of you if you'd let me. Which is more important – bein' a whore or my boy?”  Kip got teary-eyed.

“I'm sorry, Daddy. I promise I'll be good. I will.” But he wasn't, and Mick had to walk away. He didn't care give a damn what people thought about who he fucked, but getting dick rot was seriously damaging to his image.

Then he took a bad job. A guy doubled down on his arson scheme and hired two torches. There was more accelerant on the floor than Mick himself had poured out and he barely made it out before the doors blew off. The cops were called as he was knocking the guy's teeth in. He ended up back in the pen for violating parole. Kip had gotten in trouble again as well, and attached himself to the first big guy he could find. Sometimes he'd give Mick sad looks across the cafeteria. Mick ignored them. That July fourth a fight broke out over something stupid and it'd been too damn hot that week so it blew up into a mini-riot. Kip was in the middle of it for some reason. He got stabbed and bled out before the guards could get to him. Mick found himself motivated to beat Kip's new Daddy to a pulp. Your boy does for you and you look out for him. That's the agreement. Mick had plenty of time to rage and scream in solitary.

When he got out the fire called to him stronger than ever. With Snart's help he got the materials to build a flame thrower using plans they found on the internet. He was glad he'd brought it with them on a job that went south fast. Mick was spraying flame everywhere, supposedly covering his crew's retreat but mostly burning stuff. He didn't even notice the dry beams above him, ready to go up like tinder. When they fell, the fire blew back and though he was able to protect his face, his arms and legs were exposed. It didn't hurt right away because the nerves had quit. He heard Snart yelling and smelled his scorched flesh. He laughed until he cried when the endorphins wore off. There was no question he needed to go to the hospital. Snart rolled him out in front of the ER and bolted. Mick went through the daily debridement, bleach cleansing and bandage application needed to prevent infection all the while insisting to the nurses that it didn't really hurt. He wasn't scared at all. Now he knew who he really was. The fire had chosen him. The nurses kept him sedated and shaved his head to keep from having to wash his matted hair. Mick refused any more treatment than was medically necessary. His scars were badges of honor. When he got transferred to County he was forcibly medicated. No one wanted deal with the big guy with crazy eyes ranting about how he'd been reborn. He got early release due to his brand new diagnosis. Shrinks said he was a pyromaniac. He ditched his first appointment and sweated through withdrawal from the meds. He was adrift until Snart decided he wanted to get his hands on a stupid painting and get rid of their local vigilante at the same time. Mick had heard stories of the arrow-shooting guy from Starling, and now this Flash character was literally running around Central City. When Lisa busted them out of the transport van, Mick fled to Keystone. Snart checked in with him occasionally, but gave him space.

xxx

Her name was Eva and she could match any guy in the dive for drinking and getting into trouble. They were all smitten with her, but Eva was not a pushover. She let hopefuls buy her drinks and occasionally steal a kiss. An even luckier few got a night of fun before she tossed them aside. Mick decided she would be his the moment he saw her, but knew he had to take it slow. Carrying so much baggage, and being almost twenty years her senior, his skirt chasing days were numbered. He'd get her to come to him instead. He watched from his corner table, cataloging her movements. He noted what she tolerated and what made her laugh. He'd buy the occasional drink, always having the bartender give it to her, never approaching directly. She asked about him and got pieces of the legend of Mick Rory. He played with his lighter, clicking it open and shut loudly during quiet pauses in conversation just so she would look his way. When they made eye contact he would stare until she looked away. It took a week, but she came his way at last. “Gonna light something with that?” she inquired.

“Whatcha got in mind?”

“I'm dyin' for a smoke. Come outside with me?” She held out her hand, dangling her fingers in invitation. He stood up and curled one strong arm around her waist, pulling her in so that she was hip to hip with him. “Sure.” He let the word rumble in his throat.

Eva smoked long thin cigarettes that some chicks thought looked classy.

“You're an interesting specimen, Mick,” she remarked after a long drag.

“You been studyin' me, sweetheart? Not sure you have the qualifications.”

“Could be right. I'd rather fuck you anyway.”

“You sure about that?” He gave her no time to reconsider before he was in her personal space. A head taller than her, she had to look up to make eye contact. Mick was thrilled to see all the bravado she normally displayed evaporate.

“You scared?” he asked in a mocking tone.

“God, yes.”

“Good.”

She came to his place and let him have her six ways from Sunday. The next morning she was wearing one of his undershirts while she cooked him breakfast. “You got a job, or someplace you gotta be?” he asked, trying to seem uninterested. She grinned.

“I should probably go get a toothbrush and some clothes but then the only place I _need_ to be is beneath you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Eva gave as good as she got, biting and scratching like an angry cat but ultimately allowing Mick to pull her arms behind her back and use her body as he saw fit. He knocked over a liquor store and upon his return was greeted with cold beer and a blow job. He thought he might be able to get used to that.

“You wanna get outta here someday, Mick?” Eva asked one night sprawled out on his bed.

“This room, or Keystone?”

“There's a big world out there. Cities where they don't know your face and there's no Arrow or Flash. Islands to plunder.”

He chuckled. “Not a pirate, sweetheart. I'd like to retire someplace sunny but that'll take a pretty big score. Been thinking of going back to Central. You wanna come?”

She giggled. “Thought you'd never ask, handsome. Yes. Oh, and I'll go to Central with you too.” Mick shook his head and obliged her on both counts.

 

Eva didn't think much of Snart and he was none to fond of her either. Normally that wouldn't have bothered Mick, as there were definitely stretches where Len got on his nerves too, but it started to make things awkward. They were at home one evening and Eva let her displeasure with the current situation be known.

“At the rate Snart's going, the polar ice caps will have melted by the time he's done planning. Then he'll be to busy crying for polar bears to pull this job off.”

Mick bared his teeth. “Careful, baby girl. That's my partner.”

Eva draped her bare leg over his waist and dug her fingernails into the skin covering his collarbone. “You don't have to play second fiddle to anybody, you know.”

“It works out all right for me. You got a better idea do ya?”

“There's this place I know. You could do the job in a day.” Mick frowned.

“All this lovin' just to get me to do a job? You know you play with fire...”

She shivered as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. “Mmmm, you get burned. I know. You make me burn so hot. Nevermind. I was just talking.”

Mick pulled aside the crotch of her panties, and shoved two fingers inside her. She yowled and swatted uselessly at his arms while her insides squeezed him and gushed. He chuckled. “Tell me all about it, baby girl. I can multi-task.” He kissed her hard on the mouth and pistoned his fingers in and out.

Between moans of pleasure, and maybe a little pain, Eva told him of an office in a high rise where she'd worked as a temp. The boss kept cash and gold in his office safe.

“Gold-seriously?”

“Ah! Right there, oh shit. Yeah he's worried about the collapse of the economy or something.”

“Lotta security?”

“Not as much as he thinks. He writes down his passwords. I took a pic with my phone.”

“Okay. You can tell me all about it after.'

“After what?”

“This.” Mick lifted her up and set her down in his lap, burying himself in one thrust.

“Oh God! I love you!” she screamed and bit his neck.

In the post-orgasmic glow, Mick considered Eva's idea. “You want me to pitch this to the crew?”  
“You mean  _ Snart's _ crew? No, I think this is your score. Well, ours.”

Eva wasn't lying about the security. It was mostly keypads he could bypass and the passwords that Eva had, which was the only reason Mick had agreed to let her come along. The safe wasn't even high end and a small shaped charge blew it wide open.

It did indeed contain a not small amount of cash, but only one bar of gold. As Mick prepared to hand her the contents of the safe he looked over his shoulder and noticed two things. First, the boss man had a picture on his desk of a young lady that looked an awful lot like his sweetheart. Second, Eva was holding a gun. Mick spun around and was able to take the bullet more in the shoulder than the chest. He made a good show of sputtering and looking mortally wounded. “Baby?” She stood over him looking smug.

“Finally. Do you know how long I planned this? It took forever before you made a move on me. Then I had to maneuver you back to where I could convince you to help me get what's mine.”

Mick coughed.  “Knew you issues, Hun but damn. Coulda just done porn.”

“Go to hell, Mick. You got a lotta nerve talking about issues. You put it in my ass so many times I started to think you were queer.”

The butt of a pistol hitting the back of her head made lovely cracking sound and Eva went down like a ton of bricks.

“I believe the appropriate term is bisexual,” Leonard Snart informed her. He crouched down next to his partner. “Gee Mick, guess she _was_ playing you.”

“No kidding! Why'd you think I called you in on this? Took your time, by the way.”

Len held out his hand and helped Mick to his feet. “Had to dodge Red's nightly patrols. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, went through. Gotta get stitched up and I'll be fine. Damn, now I gotta find a new apartment.”

“I'll help you box up the fine china. So what tipped you off about Eva's duplicity?”

“If that means her being a double crossing bitch it was too much too fast. I'm a good lay, but nobody falls head over heels for me.”

“Aww, poor Mickey.”

“Eat shit, Len.”

“You want I should shoot her?”

“Nah, just leave her. She did let me put it in her ass a buncha times.”

 


	4. The Man He Became

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick summation of Mick's first couple years on the Waverider

Mick hadn't trusted the Englishman from the beginning, but Snart thought they could use the situation to their advantage. He'd always trusted Snart to have a plan. It wasn't a bad thing at first, but there were too many constraints. It didn't matter how fancy the surroundings were. If he wasn't allowed to do what he liked to do when he wanted to do it how was it any better than prison? Englishman certainly talked like a damn screw. At least there was cold beer whenever he wanted.

Being in Russia threw him off his game. Mick tried to follow orders, but Haircut landed them both in a gulag. Mick tried giving him the short version of how not to behave on the inside, but he just didn't get it. He didn't understand that Mick had no power there. He couldn't protect them both until he established himself as a force to be reckoned with. That was the day he learned Ray Palmer was incapable of staying out of trouble. Also, the nerd apparently had brass balls, mouthin' off like he did. And he still had the energy to give Mick a lecture about principles. It wouldn't have been right to leave him behind. Mick didn't like owing people.

“As amusing as I find it when you bring home strays, I'd caution you against getting too attached to Raymond.” Snart had that look that said he knew better than Mick. He usually did, but Mick didn't like the look all the same.

“You heard me tell him we're even. I ain't askin' him to prom.”

“Just as long as we both remember why we agreed to go on this little trip.”

Mick frowned. “I ain't likely to forget today seeing as how there was no payout at the end. So how bout you tell me when I'm going to see some gain for my pain?” Len smiled.

“Why Mick, that was almost poetic.”

“Been hanging around you too long.”

 

Things got complicated fast. Snart seemed to be setting aside their friendship while he got tight with a new crew. Mick tried to remind him – showed him even - a world that could be theirs. Len pulled him out of Star City against his will and spouted some bull about the “big picture”. “You can do better than being king of shit mountain,” he yelled as Mick fumed. Mick stalked off and found more beer. Snart had never understood that life was mostly shit. If you were lucky you just got to stand upwind for awhile. Plus he'd really liked that coat.

He didn't like to think about what happened next. The Time Pigs managed to dull some of the raw pain of his abandonment, but they couldn't erase it completely. Len's betrayal cut to the bone. Their _adjustments_ to his brain made him an effective tool. Chronos didn't need partners. Anything Chronos needed was provided. He lived to complete his mission: stop Hunter. That got him closer to his central goal – to kill Snart. Ray had said he knew Mick wasn't “just a criminal”. Damn right. He was Chronos, merciless bounty hunter _and_ Mick Rory, fire's chosen one.

 

They took away the armor and left him in the glass cage where he had no place to hide. His skin felt raw and exposed. If he killed them all he could go back to being numb. He tried to hold on to his mission. He didn't know why he was hungry. He hadn't been hungry for as long as he could remember. Everyone kept talking _at_ him and there was a constant buzzing in his ears.He needed to get out of there. Then he wouldn't have to think about anything ever again. He'd go back to doing what he was told. That didn't make sense. Mick Rory hardly ever did what he was told. Finally Len showed up and gave him a way out. The first few punches felt right. The next few were for good measure. Then it was just pointless. He'd never _liked_ hurting people. Sometimes it was necessary. Sometimes people deserved it. But he'd never gotten off on it. How could he ever be happy killing Len? Len was his friend – his partner. He had to warn them. The Time Pigs were coming for them all.

Meeting his younger self was a trip. He actually felt bad for the kid, which was really feeling sorry for himself, which was something Mick swore he'd never do. Time travel was confusing. The sooner they killed that asshole Savage the sooner he could get back to his life. But Chronos wasn't really gone, and he hadn't merged fully with Mick either. It was like he was in the back seat bitching about how slow Mick drove. Mick knew things that he didn't before. He saw things differently. Fire was still beautiful and beer was great, but an awful lot was just _wrong_. He ate when he wasn't hungry just to taste something that wasn't protein bars or nutrient paste. He rarely slept through the night and there was the problem with his hands. Chronos' armor removed him from human contact. In the beginning he would take off the gauntlets to briefly touch his victims. Dead flesh was still flesh. Over time he stopped. Now Mick had to wear gloves almost all the time or it felt like needles were being driven into his fingertips.

There were other, more personal problems. He caught a glimpse of Blondie in a state of undress and didn't even go to half-mast. That concerned him. It was a week before he realized he hadn't even _thought_ about jerking off. He thought about asking Gideon what was going on with him, but remained wary of all Time Pig tech. He hoped whatever it was would wear off. He tried to stay focused on the team and their mission.

Snart left him again. Dying wasn't the same as ditching him in pre-history, but it didn't suck any less. Haircut asked how he resisted the second attempt at having his brain wiped, and truthfully it hadn't been as difficult as the first time. He wasn't the same meat sack he'd been back then and it was all the Time Pigs' fault. He might not feel like himself just yet, but there was no chance he'd go back to being Chronos. The Englishman had filled Ray's head full of nonsense about destiny and then Len died showing them all there was no such thing. Ray was moping around until Mick made some vague comments about the team and threatened to shave his head. It figured Ray would find it motivational. Then the boy scout turned around and started acting like it was Mick who needed his hand held. Like Len had meant for Raymond to look after him. Not that he had a problem hanging around with Ray for a little bit. It occurred to Mick that he had the strangest ways of making friends.

 

How could the others not see Haircut was having problems? Without his suit Ray looked like a lost puppy. He probably needed hug. Ray liked hugs. Mick wasn't going volunteer but he knew how to support someone on his team.  He handed over the cold gun, and offered partnership. Haircut hesitated at first, but took it and tried – Mick wasn't sure what he was trying to do, honestly. It wasn't a con job where he had to develop a cover. He just had to be Ray _with_ the cold gun. Mick had his work cut out for him. Seeing Haircut in Lenny's jacket hurt bad.  Ray was always asking questions, because that's what he did. “What did you like best about your old life, Mick? Was it just the money, or the independence? Maybe the thrill of the getaway?”

Mick half-smiled. “You talk like I've left that all behind. You sayin' you think I'm on the straight and narrow?”

“Well you are one of the good guys.”

“For now,” Mick remarked ominously. Ray shook his head.

“I promise never to tell any of your criminal pals you saved the world.”

“I was actually thinking of asking Gideon to make me a trophy.”

Ray laughed. “What about a title belt? Gold plated and bigger than your head.”

“That's even better. Anyway what makes you think you're ever gonna meet my degenerate friends? And if you did, who would I say you are?”

Ray scratched his head. “Your apprentice? No, this is more of an unpaid internship.”

“Unpaid is right. Hey, aren't interns supposed to fetch stuff for their bosses?” Ray sighed.

“I'll get you another beer, but then I need to rework this firing mechanism. It's sticky.”

“Pull harder with your delicate fingers,” Mick teased. Ray showed him one finger.

It turned out not to be too hard to make Ray happy. All Mick had to do was remind him he wasn't a complete piece of crap and the guy lit up like it was Christmas. He had a nice smile and when his eyes got all bright it reminded Mick of how Kip looked when Mick brought him some stupid little gift. No, Ray wasn't like Kip. According to the Time Pig smarts filling his head that was called transference. Sure Ray was easy on the eyes and had a body that could take a good – it was a really bad time for his libido to come back online.

Mick retreated to his room where he could hit the heavy bag until those kind of thoughts went away. Ray was **not** flirting with him. _Thud._ Ray was just being nice. _Thwack_. He's a good guy – a real hero with or without a suit. _Kick_. He's a straight-laced, one woman at a time love-love kind of guy. _Thud-thud_. Definitely not fuck buddy material. _Thwack-slap_. He probably didn't even do it with the lights on. Just gotta look after him and keep some distance. Ray Palmer was a better man than Mick Rory could ever be.

The hallucinations started and stopped, and Mick knew he still wasn't right. He decided to take a chance and ask the ship for help. “Gideon, I need to know what's wrong with me.”

“Can you be more specific, Mister Rory?”

“I don't feel right, for me that is. Uh, I don't know what they did to me.”

“If you are referring to the Time Masters, I can confirm that as Chronos you were given a daily regimen of pharmaceuticals designed to keep you alert and make you compliant.”

“What about now?”

“Your seratonin levels are at the lower end of the acceptable range, and your testosterone is below average for a man your age. Both are the likely the result of experimental therapies, and I use that term loosely, employed by the Time Masters. Unfortunately no long term studies were never completed, and as the Time Masters' archives have since been destroyed, I have little information to draw on when formulating a cure as it were.”

Mick groaned. “Great. I'm stuck as a freak forever.”

“I can formulate multiple treatment plans for you to choose from. In the short term all I can offer you is medication for the erectile dysfunction you are undoubtedly experiencing.”

“Ahh, no. Okay maybe. Not that I have much need for it on the ship. Yeah, start coming up with something to get me back to sort of normal.”

There were days and weeks where Mick simply didn't care about sex. Then he would experience spikes of desire and end up frustrated that he couldn't do what he was used to. Once he was desperate enough to take Gideon's suggestion that he try prostate stimulation. Mick found out he could ejaculate without ever getting hard. “I'm too old for this shit,” he muttered to himself.

Ray made a new suit, which seemed to make him happy for a little while. He should have been high as a kite from getting to walk on the moon, but instead he seemed sorta sad. Maybe it was that asshole Not-Flash. Mick wanted to ask Ray about it, but was afraid he'd sound dumb. Sure he knew stuff now, but it wasn't the same as being smart. It was good that Ray had Pretty and Amaya to talk to. They were both really smart and could steer Ray in the right direction. He didn't need Mick worrying about him any more.

 

Aruba was everything Mick dreamed it would be. He charmed the panties off divorced moms chaperoning sorority trips and single ladies on girls-only weekends. He'd perfected a sob story of taking time off after being forced into early retirement from his heroic career as a fire-fighter. He took so much Viagra he saw new colors. The Upswipze app was extra helpful. Once when he was poking around the men seeking men section he thought he saw Ray's, but it could have been a mai-tai induced hallucination. The caption said “Need someone to take me apart”. Mick chuckled as he sipped his drink. Who would put Humpty Dumpty back together again? Then someone swiped up on Mick from close by – really close. At the end of the bar was a tall drink of rum that was about to Mick's nighttime entertainment. He looked nervous as hell. It reminded Mick of a certain science geek.

He walked right up to the guy and asked, “We doin' this or what?” The guy, who looked to be about twenty-five, nodded vigorously. He followed Mick back to his cabin and stood with his back to the door. “My name's, Greg,” he said quietly.

“That's nice,” Mick replied as he locked the door. “So Greg, from here on out I'm gonna assume you agree to the terms & conditions unless you punch me in the face, got it?”

“Y-yeah.” Mick sighed. He didn't know what it was about the skittish ones that got him going. He leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against Greg's. Then he grabbed the younger man by the arms, spun him around, and threw him onto the bed.

  
The next day Julius Ceasar showed up on the beach followed quickly by his old team. He joined back up because needed to sober up for five minutes and take a break from the constant smell of cocoa butter. It had nothing to do with missing those idiots. In Vietnam Mick met his dad, and there was a giant gorilla. Honestly the latter was easier to wrap his mind around. That night he noticed Ray lurking in his periphery, not so subtly checking on him. “I'm not gonna lose it, Haircut,” Mick said at last. “So quit worrying.”

His 'who me' face was almost cute. “I know that. I just know it was sorta difficult for me to see my mom, and little me. It couldn't have been easy to talk to your dad. I thought you might want to talk, or not talk, or punch things. Whatever it is, you don't have to do it alone. We're still friends even if we're not partners.”

Mick frowned. “Who said we're not?” Ray looked surprised.

“Uh, nobody I guess. I got my suit back and you didn't die even if I thought you did for a minute. We're all doing okay now I suppose. I don't know for sure.” Mick's head hurt.

“Ray, let's try the not talking for a bit. You wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure! Your pick.”

“Italian Job.”

“Cool, I'll set it up in the lab so nobody complains when we go over the best lines.”

“Sounds good.”

Sometimes life aboard the Waverider was wonderfully simple. Mick got to hang out with Haircut, who, like him, would watch anything that had Jason Statham in it because they both thought he was cool. Mick had his gloves off because the oil from the popcorn got the leather all gross. At one point his fingers brushed against Ray's and Mick for some reason it made his chest feel tight. His heart pounded and he struggled not to start breathing too fast. It had been a long day. He'd met his dad for God's sake. It was harder than meeting himself. They were both just people, shaped by their circumstances and choices. He hadn't set out to be a bad father. Maybe he _had_ loved his son, but not known how to show it. Just like Mick. He'd loved Kip so much and never once told him so. He pretended Eva using him didn't hurt more than the bullet she'd put in him. He'd never said anything to Ray about seeing him on that app. Obviously the man was allowed to keep his anonymous hookups to himself. But Mick remembered laying on the beach day dreaming that Ray was next to him, building a sand castle of babbling on about tides. Why did he torture himself like this? “Mick – Mick?”

“Huh?”

“You were somewhere else for a minute. Are you tired or do you want to watch Tombstone next?”

Mick decided he could handle being close to Ray to enjoy some frontier justice. “Not tired at all,” he replied. He could talk to Gideon in the morning about another potential treatment.

 


	5. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Ray, who is going through a rough patch.

Ray couldn't hide his visceral response to that dreaded word, and he must have looked truly disgusted for Nate to laugh out loud. “What'd I say to deserve that face? I figured a hopeless romantic like you would be all over the idea of having a soulmate.”

Ray sighed deeply. “I did until I found out that they can exist. And I wasn't hers.”

Shoulders slumped, he trudged away to the lab, planning to brood alone.

But Martin was there and he picked up on Ray's sour mood right away. “What weighs on you this evening, Raymond?”

The younger man shook his head. “The choices I've made versus the infinite number of things beyond my control.”

“I thought you'd dismissed the notion of destiny.” Ray shrugged.

“I go back and forth. I'd prefer to chart my own course, but I seem to have lost my map someplace. Also the first mate flew away with her reincarnated lover.”

Martin chuckled. “I would say that time heals all wounds, but we've both seen it open them as well. The only advice I have to offer is that which you've no doubt heard before. Try, try again.”

“How many times, Martin? To paraphrase Mark Twain, at some point I should just stop being a damn fool about it and quit.”

“I hardly think a bad love affair has condemned you to a life of solitude.”

“I'm not alone. I have the team.”

Martin raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. “True, but I believe we are talking about a more intimate sort of companionship.”

“Well yes. I suppose I thought as I got older that I would want certain things less.”

Martin grinned. “Perhaps less Raymond, but some things remain desirable even at my age – thank heaven.”

“Then I suppose I'll have to deal with it a while longer.”

xxx

“Your folks alive, Haircut?” Mick was halfway drunk, a stage at which he was fairly talkative. Ray was still learning to tune up the cold gun.

“No, my mom died of cancer a few years ago and my dad passed away when I was in high school.”

“You close?”

“No. He left us when I was seven. Apparently he found someone – several someones he wanted to be with more than my mom.”

“Fuck dads,” Mick replied, raising a bottle.

“I'll drink to that.”

xxx

Mick seemed to withdraw a bit after Ray found new source of dwarf star alloy and began building his new exo-suit. Ray understood that being around him was probably taxing for a man like Mick who was most comfortable on his own and strongly valued his privacy. He missed spending time together, but thought a break might be for the best. Ray had started to catalog things he knew about Mick: his favorite beer; how he liked scrambled eggs, but not omelets; how his eyes crinkled when he got Nate to laugh at a stupid fart joke; his favorite beer when someone else was buying; how all the tension drained from his face when he fell asleep. Ray couldn't help but notice that Mick was a very handsome man when he wasn't trying to angrily stare down the entire world. Ray tried not to dwell on what was surely a ridiculous crush. No good could come of it. He'd promised himself never make things difficult for the team like that again.

During the final battle against the Dominators Ray caught sight for Mick, and found himself momentarily captivated. In combat, Mick had an intensity that went beyond the concentration he demonstrated when tinkering with the heat gun. Nothing could divert his attention until the job was finished. Ray wondered how it would feel to be the focus of that type of attention; to have that gaze turned on him making him feel naked and vulnerable. Thoughts like that gave him heartburn. He was ashamed to have thought of Mick like that. The other man had been so generous with his time and support while Ray was struggling emotionally. Those kind of thoughts demeaned their friendship. The team needed his brain power, not his overactive imagination.

At his request, Gideon gave Ray a check-up. “You are in perfect health, Doctor Palmer. As you should be given how well you take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, Gideon. Are you sure my hormone levels are normal?”

“Completely. Is there something causing you concern?”

“I was wondering if there was something you could do to reduce, um, certain impulses.”

“If you are referring to the libido, I cannot reduce it without significant side effects.”

“Never mind then.”

Walking on the moon had been awe inspiring. But days later all Ray could think about was being stuck with Thawne. The maniac had a point. Ray's use of the dwarf star alloy to create the A.T.O.M. suit had been selfish, even if he honestly believed he was using it as a force of good. Ray did want to better himself. He thought he'd made some progress over the years, so why was it he didn't _feel_ like a good man yet. 

Ray was glad he hadn't completely lost his cool when he thought he saw Mick murdered on the battlefield. He really had almost hugged his Mick in front of everybody. Thankfully Mick warned him off. Then Ray lost him anyway. He lost the whole team.

xxx

Working for Upswipze was a blessing and a curse. Ray was glad to have a job, even one that was mind-numbingly awful. But he could also look through profiles under the guise of testing various algorithms. He went on a couple – he didn't dare call them dates – and inevitably felt guilty. It didn't seem right, using another person just for sex, even that person was using Ray for the same thing. He tried explaining his dilemma to Nate, who couldn't understand his friend's problem. “So you hooked up a couple times. What's the big deal? You're an adult.” Ray didn't know how to explain that he was disappointed in himself. He thought he ought to be able to control his urges. “Never mind. Forget I brought it up.”

The first time he tried bottoming was the last straw. It hurt more than he'd anticipated, and his discomfort was obvious to the man on his back. “Dude, relax.” Ray wanted to explain that he was trying, but was overwhelmed with fear and self-loathing. All he could manage was breathing hard and grunting. When the other guy finished Ray got dressed and fled the apartment apartment while the man was in the bathroom cleaning up. Ray received a text later. “You're a little old to be a virgin. Probably should have mentioned it.”

With one night stands causing more stress than they relieved Ray sought professional help. Once again he found it easier to get appointments with male pro-doms. It was a tad odd, having someone who actually had a penis, push a dildo into his begging mouth, but Ray had decided that was all he could accept from a stranger. It wasn't as if he deserved to be touched anyway.

Ray's thoughts returned to Camelot, reminding him of the ideals he'd prized when he was younger: loyalty, duty, chastity. The last one had always been a sticking point. When the team got back together Ray decided he would renew his vows so to speak. He could commit himself to the team and work toward mastering the feelings that were causing him so much trouble. He threw all his toys and soft things into the trash compactor. Then, wearing his custom made fur-lined leather cuffs he couldn't bear to part with, he watched his favorite video one last time. In it a young man, much younger and prettier than Ray himself, was dominated and used by a man he worshipped – his Daddy. Ray deleted that bookmark and then all the others. 

Once again rules were the key. He could figure out who he was supposed to be, but only if he exercised self-discipline. He didn't _need_ those things. They were like ice cream – good, but unhealthy, so it should be saved for special occasions. And, Ray reasoned, if he found himself wanting to be close to someone who was allergic to ice cream he could of course give it up completely; for love. Ray believed love involved sacrifice, and since he  loved his life on the Waverider, he could sacrifice for it. The craving would pass, like it had when he gave up carbs. He just had to keep busy and occupy his mind. He was in control of his body not the other way around. Masturbation was a matter of utilitarian relief. He had a schedule and kept to it.

Ray poured his energy into caring for the team. He tried to make sure they ate right, slept well, and even organized team bonding activities. Going home again was beyond strange. He pushed down the pain of seeing his beautiful mother so vibrant and alive. It was like he was watching a movie about his life. He nearly panicked when Zari overheard his mother talking on the phone. “I'm worried about him,” Sandy said. “I'm scared he'll end up like his father – confused and alone.”

“What's she mean by that, Ray?”

“Not sure. My parents divorced and my dad never remarried.”  Ray didn't have time to dwell on what his mother had said. He had to save little Ray. If only he could figure out a way to keep him from making so many mistakes.

Ray was happy that Mick still tolerated him on occasion. He'd seen that Mick was hurting after meeting his dad, of whom he had few fond memories. Ray suggested the movie and ended up nodding off during Tombstone. He awoke just as his head contacted Mick's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to invade your personal space.” Ray was flustered and suddenly he felt terribly lonely. He realized how long it had been since someone had deliberately touched him. “S'okay, Haircut. You're sleepy. It happens.” Mick was so kind to him at times. Ray closed his eyes just for a moment and was instantly dreaming. In the dream Mick put his arm around Ray and let him sit close. He petted Ray's hair and told him he was doing a good job for the team. It was perfect. Then he opened his eyes again to find the credits rolling and Mick gone. Ray let out a shuddering sigh and felt another knot form in his chest. He brushed his teeth and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep. This was for his own good. He would be a better man because of it.

 

 


	6. Living with the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is long and dark. Ray is in a bad place. There will be mention of self harm.   
> Also HUGE spoilers for S3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, and the next, I cannibalize parts of one of the scenes I wrote for Ray Palmer, you Kinky Bastard.

Ray couldn't believe Martin was gone. He'd been shot by Earth-X Nazis of all things. The voice in the back of Ray's head pointed out his own culpability. He fled the Waverider and went to STAR Labs. He wanted to review Cisco's work on the formula that had finally separated Jax and Martin. He pored over calculations and formulas, trying to find some thread that would connect their success with his repeated failures. He had to have missed something . But it was a completely different approach, one that had never occurred to Ray. He slammed his hands down on the bench top, making his palms sting. He wanted to yell and throw things, but was mindful of his status as a guest of team Flash aka the ones _not_ hampered by his incompetence. He saw the thermal lance sitting to one side and impulsively powered it up until it was a bright red-orange. He wasn't going to put his hand on it, that would be too obvious. Behind him he heard a quiet, “Ray?”

He turned to see Caitlyn, her eyes red from crying. Ray quickly unplugged the lance and moved away. “I just wanted to see Cisco's work,” he explained. “It worked perfectly – obviously or Jax would be dead too.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm sorry. I should have come to you sooner. You've always been the better bio-engineers. I thought I could do it because I got lucky with Nate. I saved his life and he got powers as a bonus. I thought there was time. If I'd sent Martin to you in the first place he wouldn't even have been there today. He would have been home with his family not...not...” The tears were coming before he knew what to do. His phone beeped and when he looked at it he saw a text from Felicity asking if he was okay. Ray, in a display of just how not okay he was, picked it up and threw it at the wall.  He only had a second to enjoy the satisfying sound of plastic and glass shattering before a cold wind swirled around him. He turned to see that Caitlyn had transformed into Killer Frost and she looked extremely displeased. “Way to go, asshole,” she shouted at him. “Caitlyn's in enough pain without you scaring her too.”

“I-I'm sorry,” Ray stammered. “I didn't mean to.”

“Save it. I never met Doctor Stein personally, but died saving his friends, who from what I can see are a bunch of crybabies. He's probably better off.”

That angered Ray. “You didn't know him, and we aren't.”  
“Are you alive?”

“Clearly.”

“That's better than dead in my book.”

“You're right. You didn't know him so how about you just go do whatever it is you do and leave me alone.” The faintly glowing thermal lance caught her eye.

“Whatcha doin' with that Ray? Gonna hurt somebody?” Here eyes narrowed and her lips curved into a cruel smile. Ray held his breath for a second. He didn't know what to say. “Talk!” Frost ordered and Ray nodded vigorously. “You were going to burn your pretty skin, weren't you? Answer me.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“You like pain, Ray?”

“Sometimes.” He was exhausted and revealing that fact was easier than lying.

Frost stepped closer and raised her hand to touch his cheek. Ray flinched. “You want to be punished, don't you?” His shoulders started shaking. His voice was ragged and he couldn't look her in the eye.

“Yes.” He fell to his knees and hung his head. “Please,” he said and she ran her fingers through his hair, leaving icy droplets on his scalp. “Please,” he said again in despair. Frost hummed and seemed to be thinking it over. She sighed.

“I'm sorry, puppy. I can't. Not tonight. I can feel the weight of Caitlyn's sorrow. I couldn't enjoy it. Some other time.” She turned heel and exited the lab, leaving Ray alone and trembling.

When he summoned the energy to walk, Ray found the nearest bar and had them line up shots of Bacardi 151. He knew it would get him where he wanted to go as fast as possible. By the third shot he had attracted someone's attention. “Trying to shut out the world, huh? I've been there.” Ray barely glanced at the woman on the stool next to him. She finished her drink and ordered another while he contemplated another. “You wanna get out of here? I don't live far.” Ray figured it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done. He followed her home. He was on his knees pushing his hands up her skirt before she could shut the door and lock it.

“Just a minute,” she pleaded and made him look at her. “You do know I...”

Ray cut her off. “Yeah, I don't care. Unless this isn't okay with you.”

“No, it's fine."

He buried his head between her legs nuzzling and pulling down her panties to free the penis untucking itself from between her thighs. He sucked until his jaw was sore and she pushed him away.

“Wow. Let's at least get to the bed.” She led him to her room.

“Don't be nice to me,” Ray begged, his head swimming. “Hit me.”

She laughed. “What? No.”

He knelt on the floor while she sat on the edge of her bed. “Hit me,” he reiterated. “Anywhere.” She slapped at him playfully and he groaned in disappointment. Then she smacked his cheek properly. Ray gasped and felt the coil inside him start to unspool. “Again.”

She shook her head. “You wanna fuck me?”

Ray shook his head. “No, want you to fuck me. Would you do that?”

She seemed confused for a moment, but nodded.

He undressed in a daze and sat on her small bed while she disrobed as well. She handed him the lube and told him to get himself ready. Mechanically he coated his fingers and began inserting them into himself. It had been a long time and he was fairly tight. Inebriated as he was, Ray wasn't hearing the alarm bells. He had almost gotten three fingers in when she told him to get on his stomach. He obeyed and propped himself up with a pillow. His eyelids were so heavy and he nodded off for a microsecond until he felt the blunt head nudging at his opening. There was some shuffling behind him while his partner got situated, and then she pressed forward. It did not feel good. “Feelsh too big,” he slurred into the sheets. She couldn't hear him. He tried to grit his teeth and bear down like he had the last time but it wasn't helping. “Owwww,” he whimpered. Then Ray panicked. “Stop-Stop it hurts!” The uncomfortable intrusion was withdrawn, but the pain didn't stop.

“I'm so sorry, are you all right?”

“No,” he replied weakly. Ray made his apologies and limped stiffly back to the Waverider, praying no one would see him.

Ray made it to his room and passed out in his clothes only to vomt in the shower the next morning while berating himself. “Stupid, so stupid. Can't even get fucked without screwing it up. This is what happens when you can't keep it in your pants.” He summoned the courage to check if he was actually injured and confirmed that there was some bleeding. Reluctantly he went to the medbay. “Gideon, I have an embarrassing problem. I've injured myself and I don't know how badly.”

“Don't worry, Doctor Palmer. I've seen all manner of wounds, self-inflicted and otherwise.” Gideon confirmed his fears. “The internal bruising is minor and there is a small tear at the opening of the anus. I'll have it fixed up in two ticks.” Her cheery tone made him feel worse. The dull ache inside was gone, but the memory lingered. For days Ray couldn't look at himself in the mirror without waves of shame pushing him into a litany of self-degredation. “It doesn't even matter if you'll never know how it's supposed to feel. No one wants you anyway.”

He asked Gideon to fabricate a chastity device, crudely known as a cock cage. He wore it to bed every night to keep himself from temptation. Unfortunately no matter how hard he worked to keep _those_ sorts of thoughts from creeping into his conscious mind he had no control over his dreams. He would wake up in the middle of the night with the sensation of strong hands holding him down and a gruff voice in his ear telling him it didn't matter how hard he tried to be good. The voice knew Ray was filthy and was going to make him so inside and out. In those twilight moments he would thrust his hips upward uselessly until the sleep claimed him again.

No one noticed he was spending less and less time with the team. But he kept running into Leo. “Long night, Raymond?” he asked as Ray emerged from his lab at 1 AM. “Usually no one's up at this hour, except Mick. And he's still avoiding me.”

“He does that,” Ray observed.

“Are you two close?”

“What do you mean?”

“I get the impression that you might understand him better than the others.”

“Why would you think that? I mean we used to spend time together. We're partners sort of. It's complicated.” He could feel his face getting hot.

“Doesn't seem that complicated. Not hard to see why you would find him appealing.”

“Leo, just because I'm, uh me, doesn't mean that...because I'm just not. I'm not a lot of things. That's probably why Mick stopped letting me tag along. I'm dead weight.”

Leo looked skeptical. “I doubt that's how he thinks of you, Raymond. In fact, I think he might be a little sweet on you.”

“You're imagining things. Why would he?”

“Gosh Ray, you're right. No one likes a charming, handsome man.”

“I'm not - look, if Mick were attracted to men he'd probably want someone like himself – a real man. And just because someone wants your body doesn't mean they want **you**. And I know myself enough to understand that I'm not easy to be with.”

“All right, I'll play. What's so awful about being a smart, generous, funny guy?”

Leo's words were causing Ray to become deeply confused.

“Whatever,” was all he could say.

“You seriously don't think you're attractive?”

“You don't understand. You just don't. I'm not right for anybody.”

xxx

Ray felt like he was losing his mind. He needed help, and he only knew one person to call.

“Caitlyn, I need to talk to your alter ego. She has certain skills. I need her help.”

“Ray are you sure? I know after Martin passed you had a rough time.”

“That was a bad night. I, uh, need things and I don't know anyone else.”

“I'll have her call.”

“Thank you.”

Ray raised his hand and gave a friendly wave to the white haired woman coming up the loading ramp. “Hi. I’m really glad you’re here. Do you want a tour of the ship? I know _you_ didn’t see much the last time you were on board.”

Frost smiled and linked her arm in Ray’s. “I like you, Ray. You understand duality. Show me around then.”

Ray gave her the ten cent tour and they stopped at the bridge. “Very nice,” she said absentmindedly, running her fingers over the console in the center. “Now that we’ve been sociable, shall we discuss the business at hand?”

A faint color came to Ray’s cheeks. “You’re sure Caitlyn is okay with this? I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

Frost rolled her eyes. “Miss Goody Good has given her permission and will remember nothing.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, Ray. Caitlyn’s been stingy with playtime lately, and sadly I can’t show my face around town lately. I haven’t flexed these muscles in far too long.”

Ray shivered involuntarily. “Well, I’m grateful you agreed. We're traveling all the time. I haven’t had the chance to de-stress in months. People are starting to notice how _unsettled_ I am.”

Ms. Frost placed one hand in the small of his back. “Hush now, puppy. Let’s go somewhere private and I’ll see what I can do.”

Ray double checked that the door to the lab was locked before showing Frost to a corner with a high-backed leather office chair. He retrieved a duffle bag from a locked cabinet and gave it to Frost. “There’s some stuff in there you can use, if you want.”

She unzipped the bag and began to explore the contents. “What’s off limits?” Ray shifted his weight, but didn’t answer right away. “Speak! You should not be trying my patience already.”

Ray took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I don’t like being tied up very much, but if you tell me to stay put I’ll do that. No punching or hitting hard enough to bruise, especially my face. I tend to - I **will** \- beg to be allowed to do _things_ with my hands and mouth , but please don't let me. And don't do those things to me either.”

Frost grinned. “Strip down, and sit still.”

Ray pulled off his shirt and pants, leaving on only his boxer briefs. He sat with his feet firmly planted on the floor and his head inclined downward. Frost hummed to herself while laying some items from the bag out on the counter.

“I thought you said you don’t like being restrained?” She dangled his cuffs from one finger.

“They remind me to keep my hands to myself,” he explained.

“That’s a very good idea. Sit up straight. Posture is important.” Ray did as he was told and, when prompted, held out his arms for the cuffs to be buckled around his wrists. Frost instructed him to keep his hands on the arms of the chair. Ray nodded and obeyed, though he continued to shuffle his feet slightly. Frost took a deep breath and stretched her arms up over her head. “Safeword?”

“Hawk.”

“Now then, why are we here? Tell me your sins.”

“I need to be punished,” Ray said simply

Frost made a displeased sound deep in her throat and gripped his chin tightly, tilting his head upward. “For what? Be specific.”

Ray hesitated. “I'm bad,” he whispered. “I need you to hurt me.”

“Am I wasting my time here, Raymond?” Frost asked, obviously frustrated. “I thought you had something more interesting to offer.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, swallowing hard. “I – I want things I shouldn’t.”

“Mmmm, that’s a start.” She undid the button of her jacket and straddled his thighs as if she were going to sit in his lap. Ray shuddered. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, no. It makes me think about things I can’t have.” Frost leaned over to whisper in his ear, putting his face level with her cleavage.

“You’re not a virgin or a monk, Ray. Do you not like sex any more?”

“No, I like it very much But I don't want to use others for my own gratification. I want to be a better man.”

“So in order to be “good” you think you have to give up sex forever?”

“Not forever. Just for awhile.” Frost dismounted and stood in front of him.

“Bet that’s hard.” She tapped the seat of the chair between his legs, centimeters from his groin.

“Very,” he whispered. “But that’s how it has to be. I can't be a slave to my desires.”

“You deny yourself what you desire and seek punishment for having it in the first place.”

“That's accurate.”

“And if a little pleasure comes from the pain?”

“I suppose I can't help that,” Ray admitted. “Please, can’t you just…”

Frost slapped him across the face. “Don’t interrupt. This is fascinating. When was the last time you masturbated?”

“Uh, I don't remember. I'd have to check the schedule.” Ray blushed from the tips of his ears to the hollow of his throat

“Why does that embarrass you?”

“It's a weakness. I told you. I'm trying to be good.”

Frost reached into the bag and retrieved a thin strip of leather. She snapped it down across his thighs. Ray jumped, but his hands stayed on the chair.

“Tell me what went through your mind the last time.”

“I thought about one of my teammates while I did it. I try not to, but it happens.”

“Tell me more.”

Ray hesitated. Frost made whipped his thighs times in quick succession. “Ow! I imagined making love with one of my teammates.” Frost sneered and raked her fingernails down his chest, leaving freezing red welts.

“Don’t lie. You didn’t fantasize about a four-poster bed covered with rose petals. Try again.”

“I imagined being held down,” Ray confessed, his eyes screwed shut. Frost sighed happily and ran her fingers through his hair.

“More details.”

“Please, I…”

She yanked his head back, but then released him abruptly. She picked up a long leather strap split down the middle like a forked tongue. She brought it down across one thigh and than the other. By the tenth stroke, Ray’s legs were trembling and when she smacked him across the abdomen he broke.

“He made he take it. I couldn’t make him stop. I didn’t want him to stop.”

“Ah, there we are.”

Ray babbled on. “I wish I could stop thinking about it. There's no point to it. I don't want to be like this. The pain makes the thoughts go away for a little while.”

“Oh puppy,” Frost breathed as she patted his arm. “You do need help. But all I have to offer at the moment is a thorough spanking.”

Ray’s breath hitched. “Yes, please, Ms. Frost.”

“Turn around and grab the chair again.”

Ray knelt on the seat of the chair and grabbed the back of to steady himself. “Do you want me to count?”

She laughed. “No, I want you to cry.”

When her arm got tired, Frost called herself done. Ray slowly dressed, pulling his clothes over hot, reddened skin. “Thank you, Ms. Frost,” he said hoarsely. Frost kissed him on the cheek. “Take care, Ray. Fun as this was, it was a one-time deal. You need to find someone you can trust with your pain and, more importantly, pleasure.” She smacked his denim covered rear one last time, making him whine. “Rest here a bit. I’ll see myself out.”

xxx

Just as he'd predicted, it got easier to go for longer periods of time without intimate contact. He would reach out occasionally to give his teammates gentle, reassuring touches, but never hugs. Not anymore.

Being a pirate had been fun, but facing Sara was not. She was livid, and rightly so. Her date with Ava was important to her and instead of behaving themselves they'd gone and lost Amaya's totem. Ms. Frost had been right. He needed help. He wasn't making good choices. Knowing he held Nora's life in his hands ate away at him. Villain or not, Damien's expression as he cradled his daughter had been one of genuine pain and sorrow. Ray wondered how he had looked when as he held Anna's lifeless body. He couldn't let Nora die and leave her father with that kind of grief. He thought about straight out asking Mick to come with him, but the other man clearly didn't understand why Ray was upset. It was another reminder of the fundamental differences between them.

He had more than enough time to reconsider his actions as he spent the next twenty-four hours tied up and getting shocked and waterboarded. The irony of how little he enjoyed that sort of pain was not lost on him. But when the electricity made him throw his head back as his back spasmed he couldn't help but feel that he'd earned this rough treatment. He was stupid and weak.

Damien laughed, not just a chuckle, but full body shaking with mirth. “It's always the quiet ones, right?” He gestured toward the small bit of lace peeking over the edge of Ray's waistband. He'd found a stray pair of panties in his drawer and decided on a whim to wear them that night thinking he was done going out. He'd forgotten just like Kendra said he would. Ray looked away. The part of him that might have spoken up to point out Damien was the one looking at Ray's ass had gone silent. The other voice boomed louder. “You're an idiot, Ray; pathetic. No wonder everyone leaves you.”

He placed the call to the Waverider and told them not to find them. Maybe Damien would kill him before he had to face them and be humiliated. But then Dahrk threatened Ray's mom. His life might be worthless, but his family's wasn't.

He managed to extricate himself from the chair and signal the Legends. He would have been proud had he not been so bone tired. Ray decided not to go to the med bay. The pain was a necessary lesson.

He told everyone he was fine. He slept like a log for twelve hours before waking up stiff and sore. He grabbed a water bottle and hit the gym. As expected, his arms needed loosening after being bound for so long. His legs were worse off, and he was only able to do a few sets before his quads complained loudly. Crunches were out of the question due to the wounds around his mid-section.  He was hitting the bag so hard he didn’t hear Nate come in. “Holy shit, Ray.”  Ray froze for a second, then quickly grabbed his hoodie and pulled it on. “Man, I had no idea you were hurt so badly,” Nate said with a note of pity.

“Cattle prods don’t exactly tickle,” Ray pointed out.

“I guess not. Why didn’t you get Gideon to fix you up?”

“Don’t need to,” Ray claimed. He tried doing a couple squats, grimacing at the strain.

“What’s going on? You don’t neglect your health. Ray, say something. This isn’t like you.”

Something inside snapped and he lashed out. “How would you know what I’m like, Nate? You’ve known me maybe a year and half that time you've been busy getting Amaya into bed – which I told you was a bad idea. But you think you can do whatever you want because you have super powers now. I, however, **do not** have super powers and just got the shit beat out of me for two days while you guys were doing heaven knows what.”

Nate looked truly shocked. “Whoa, Ray. That's the pain talking. Let's go to the med bay and then we can get some of that wheat grass drink you like. We'll talk about what happened. I swear we scoured time and space for you as soon as we noticed you were gone.”

“As soon as you noticed huh? How long? Gideon, how long was I gone before they knew?”

“Just under forty-eight hours, Doctor Palmer.”

Nate looked guilty, but tried to explain. “Ray, man, give us a break. You've been holed up in your lab so much we sometimes don't see you all day.”

“I see. It's my fault. Clearly.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“Just leave me alone, Nate. It shouldn't be that difficult.”

Sitting on the floor of the shower for ten minutes in the hot spray Ray wondered if this was how Mick felt all the time; hardened, but hollow inside. Maybe he'd have the guts to ask someday.

A day later later he bounced back and was to all appearances his cheery self. He wanted to apologize to Nate, but wanted to forget the whole incident even more. He'd barely had time to wrap his mind around the concept of demons before they were dealing with ghosts as well. Wally joined the crew, but they lost Axel.

“I'm so sorry Mick. I don't know how he got that. He shouldn't even have been able to get the lid off. I should have that stuff locked away.” Mick just stared and looked so lost. Ray was swallowed up by feelings of regret. He had to atone for another death. He found a lighter Mick had left in the lab. He flipped it open and let the flame dance for a few seconds before he blew it out and pressed the heated metal to the skin of his chest. “Focus!” He worked on a memorial service for Axel.

Ray had a job to do. Re-forging the fire totem would make everyone forget about his stupid mistake with the Dahrks. It was disappointing that Mick didn't want to stay with him, but then Ray heard the door open again and was happy he'd returned. Ray raised his head, “Come see this Mick- it's so cool!”

“See what, son?”

“Mom? You can't be here”.

“Ray, Honey. What are you doing? Is this the life you've made yourself? Surrounded by more inventions – no place of your own – no family. Where did I go wrong?”

“Mom it's not like that. Things just turned out different. I tried.”

“Like your father tried?”

“No! Please don't say that. I'm not like him.” He knew the leg was broken again as soon as she kicked him.

 

 

 


	7. The Man He Wanted To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick has yet another transformative experience.

Fucking Nazis. Mick couldn't believe it was Nazis that killed the Professor. He'd survived Russia, Savage, and the Legion of Assholes. Mick couldn't stay on the ship. Everybody was weepy and there were too many feelings and people wanting to talk about feelings. He'd done that bit after Snart and was not going to hang around for the sequel. He found a place to hole up and drink himself numb until the funeral.

 Leo was getting on all his nerves. His stories about Earth-2's _Mickey_ were hard enough to deal with, but then he started in on Mick's personal life.

“About you and Raymond,” Leo began with no warning. That voice – he both missed it hated hearing it again.

“Why are you still here?”

“I told you. Decided to tag along for a bit. Take a break from the good fight.”

“To bother me. Got it. What about me and Ray?”

“Are you two?” Leo made a strange gesture.

“I have no idea what that means. We're friends, I guess.”

“Lately he looks like he could use some friends. Staying up late, all alone in his lab.” That got Mick's back up. Ray didn't like to be bothered when he was working.

“Stay away from him.”

“Calm down. No need to be jealous. I'm spoken for, remember?”

Mick grimaced. “Haircut's not like that. He doesn't...” Only Mick knew he did at least some of the time. “You didn't make him feel weird, did you? Ray's sensitive and stuff.”

“All I offered was a shoulder to cry on. He turned me down and insisted he _fine_.”

“You probably scared him with your shrink talk.”

“He might talk to you.”

“He'll get it sorted by himself,” Mick insisted. He couldn't be what Ray needed. He wasn't whole himself yet.

xxx

Mick went looking for the ice queen before she got off the ship. “Oh good,” she purred. “You saved me the trouble of tracking you down.”

“What did you do to Ray?” he demanded.

She smirked. “I really shouldn’t tell you. Let’s just say ouchy stuff.”

“You better not have hurt him.”

Frost grinned. “Oh, I definitely hurt him. Not as much as he wanted, but that’s something I could discuss with someone who _cares_ about him.” Mick grabbed for her wrist as she pushed him aside. Frost shot icy pin pricks into his right side. Mick reeled and let out a roar of pain. “Careful,” she warned. “Caitlyn might still be afraid of you, but I’m not!”

She waited until he backed down to continue. “Now, if you’ll behave we can talk like grown ups.” Mick eyed here warily. “You're very defensive for someone doing such a good job of torturing Ray.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You saw how rattled he was earlier. He needs someone, and if you're not _trying_ to hurt him then you're just being stupid.”

Mick was confused. “I don't know what you're talking about. I wouldn't hurt Ray like that.”

“Good, because pain isn’t what Ray needs right now. He’ll take it, and try to pretend it’s satisfying, but it won’t ever be enough.”

“Then why'd you do it?”

“Because it amused me. That and I knew I could make him spill his guts. Others will take him at his word. He says ‘hurt me’ and they do.”

“I don't understand.”

Frost sighed, clearly frustrated. “He wants to serve, you dolt. He wants to go down on his knees for Daddy.”

Mick sneered. “Ray ain’t no boy.”

“You're going to hold his age against him? None of us choose when we're born or what drives us. Pull your thick skull out of your ass and do the right thing.” She shook her head and smoothed down her hair as she walked away.

 

Mick didn't know what did the ice queen was talking about. Ray needed a Daddy? That didn't make any sense. Haircut could hold his own. Sure he constantly threw himself in harm's way and got banged up on a regular basis. He was always doing little things for people just because, and he believed keeping the kitchen tidy was vitally important to their lives. He was probably trying to bring order to his world because he felt out of control inside. Shit. That psychology text book hadn't been entirely full of crap. Mick had watched Ray falter, especially since they lost the Professor. And whatever was going on with him must have gotten worse he had the ice queen make a special trip just to knock him around. Still, Mick didn't know what he could do.

xxx

Haircut was missing. He'd gone back to save the girl, and he didn't ask Mick to go with him. Sure Mick had said it was a dumb idea, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have gone along. Mick agreed to whatever awful shirt Pretty suggested he wear to the hippie concerts. Frosty told him Ray was gonna do something dumb and then he went and got himself captured. He wasn't equipped to handle Dahrk's brand of mindfuckery.

Thankfully Ray got himself out of the jam. Mick knew he was lying when he said he was all right, but needed time to figure out how to help him. Then everything started moving too fast – literally since the speedy kid showed up. On top of that Zari knew private stuff about him, and then Axel died. Haircut had given him Axel; the only Christmas gift he'd gotten in years. The little guy relied on Mick and reminded him he was capable of caring for a living creature. He didn't want everyone see how broken up he was about it. He just wanted to be left alone. Ray asked Mick to stay with him in the lab while he was working, but it was too much. The kid busted into his room and dressed him. No one had the right to come into his room while he was sleeping; to touch him or his stuff. He needed space and booze to deal with it all.

xxx

Amaya and Zari didn't see how close he was to losing it when they found Ray on the floor of the lab. Mick retreated into himself for a bit and let the remnants of Chronos take the reins just to get through the day. There was a demon-possessed Sara running around the ship. He wanted to make her/it would pay for what she/it did to Haircut. Then Amaya gave him the fire totem. She said he was a good man.  Though she was in love with Pretty so her judgment wasn't entirely sound. If demons existed then hell was probably real, and Mick just knew that's where he was headed. Haircut said Mick wasn't the same person that he used to be. If Ray believed in him like that then maybe, just maybe. The fire raced through him and it was better than he had ever imagined. He held flames in his hands, and for a moment it was just like when he'd burned down that first garage – like he could do anything. Then, a second later, his scars ached like never before.

Instead of losing himself in the flame, Mick felt something inside him push back against that old familiar impulse. _He_ was in control. He used the power of the totem to burn the demon out of Sara and then immediately went to the med bay. Gently he cleaned up Ray's bloodied face.  He pored over Gideon's scans and saw the evidence of multiple partially healed injuries. It made him nauseous. “Never again, Ray. Not gonna leave you to face your demons alone.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Leo aka Citizen Cold and his ability to put people in touch with their own hearts


	8. The Road to Redemption and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick confronts Ray. Ray flails. They come to an understanding.

In his head, Ray was still confronting the ghost of his mother. “I'm sorry, Mom. I promised myself I wouldn't be anything like him, but I'm stuck in the same place he was when he left us.” He awoke so abruptly he almost fell out of the treatment chair. Instantly Nate was by his side, reassuring him.

“Ray, you're safe. It's over.”

“It's over? I'm alive? Is everybody else okay?”

“Yes to all three, buddy. The death totem's safely contained again.”

Ray's eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other, expecting to be tricked again. “It's really gone?” Nate nodded. “How long have I been out?”

“Better part of the day. You got the worst of it. Gideon can give you the run down if you want, but she's mostly done with you. The rest of us are actually getting re-checked. Except Mick, who's pretending that getting thrown across the room by a demonic entity is normal for a Tuesday.”

Amaya and Zari filed in and stopped to fuss over him. “You scared us,” Amaya said.

“Massive hematoma is not a good look for you,” Zari chimed in.

Sara stopped by to apologize and Ray couldn't help but be wary. He didn't know how much she might remember of what Mallus had said to him. He was relieved to find out she didn't recall anything. Gideon released him with orders to go to his room and get some real sleep.

 

When Ray stood up he wobbled like a newborn giraffe for a few seconds until his brain remembered his leg had been set. He was a little woozy, but decided to take a detour to see how badly his lab was messed up. To his surprise, it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Mick emerged from behind a screen with a broom and dustpan. He scowled. “What the hell are you doing here? Pretty sure Gideon told you to go to bed.”

Ray saw the fire totem around Mick's neck. “It works?” Mick tossed a fire ball from one hand to the other. “Neat,” Ray said, relieved that he'd managed to accomplish one thing before getting nearly killed. For some reason Mick didn't seem as happy. “Are you mad at me?” Ray asked.

“Yeah. Mad at myself too though.”

“What'd I do? You know I can take a punch. Happens often enough.”

Ray's self-deprecating humor didn't soften Mick's expression. “I looked over the scan Gideon took of you this morning. Saw stuff that wasn't just from today. I'd ask how long you've been hurting yourself but you'd just lie badly.”

Ray felt trapped. Obviously there was no point in denying it. “What are you going to do?”

“First I'm gonna say my piece, and you're gonna listen real good. Next I'm gonna make sure you get some sleep. Then, as soon as we can, we're gonna get some help – real help from somebody with certificates on their wall cuz I ain't qualified to do much more than this.”

“What is this, exactly?”

“It's a goddamn intervention, Ray. You're hurting. Have been for awhile. You've been smilin' and actin' brave, and it took too long for me to open my eyes. I don't know how this started, but it stops right now. Almost lost you today, and I ain't okay with that.”

Ray's head was swimming and there was a storm of emotions brewing. He wanted to tell Mick not to worry; was thrilled that Mick did worry; was terrified of letting anybody know his secrets. He felt any control he had slipping away. “I deserve it,” he whispered. “All of it – what Dahrk did to me, everything I did to myself. Because I'm weak. I have these feelings and I don't want them. I can't make them go away. But I have to keep trying or bad things will keep happening to me.”

Mick scratched his head. “You wanna be numb? Booze is real good for that. Everybody loves a drunk guy right? Passed out before noon while his team mate's getting killed down the hall.”

“You couldn't have stopped her,” Ray said woodenly.

“Still coulda been there,” Mick insisted. “You asked me, but I was chickenshit.”

Ray sagged against the wall. “Why would you be afraid to be near me? You know about me don't you?”

“If you're talking about the gay thing or your visit from Frosty, I know.”

“She told you?” Ray looked stricken.

“She said you needed my help. Leo said you needed me too. I didn't believe them. But I'm not looking the other way this time.”

Ray felt light headed. “I need to lie down.”

Mick steered Ray to his room and looked away while Ray changed into something less blood stained. He collapsed onto his bunk and awaited a lecture.

Mick actually looked more sad than angry as he pulled a chair up beside Ray's bed. “Look, I've been to some real bad places in my head, and would have gone right back to 'em when Snart died if you hadn't been around. I said we were partners, but when things got rough for me again I left you out there by yourself.”

Ray felt the walls he'd carefully constructed around his inner turmoil begin to crumble. “I don't want to be like this. I'm scared, and I don't know who I am anymore.”

Mick snorted. “We should start a club for that. You know, you keep tellin' me I'm not the same person as when we first met. I _know_ that, but figuring out who this new person is ain't a picnic. Somehow you can see him – the me that's in there trying to come out. I see you too, Ray. I know you're in there. You just got lost.”

Ray's lip trembled. “I don't know the way back.”

“We'll figure it out. Right now you're gonna get some sleep, and I'll be here to make sure you're safe.”

 

The next morning Ray woke up to an empty room. Then the door opened and Mick entered with an armload of fruit and a carton of almond milk. “I didn't know what you'd like so I got a bunch of healthy junk and this _not_ milk.”

Ray smiled. “Do you remember that first week, when I'm pretty sure you _hated_ me, you were constantly giving me crap for drinking - what did you call it – nut squeezins?”

Mick grinned. “Len was pissed cuz he laughed so hard coffee came out his nose. Hell we were like a buncha kids on the first day of school all tryin' to be the coolest.”

Ray was calmed by this strange domesticity. He'd always found it easy to talk to Mick. “Thanks Mick. For last night and this. Clearly I haven't been doing so well.”

Mick asked him, “Is all this cuz you're upset about being gay or whatever? I saw your face on that app a couple of times. Didn't think it was a big deal, but if it's bugging you we can talk about it.”

Ray peeled an orange while he organized his thoughts. “I always wanted to get married,” he said finally.

“Happily ever after and all that?”

“Yeah, typical right? But I'm not exactly Prince Charming. I'm different.”

“The submissive thing,” Mick filled in. “I know a little about it. Used to work in this place where folks would come in to get smacked around or whatever. Didn't seem all that bad to me. You like what you like.”

“It's hard if no one likes it with you.”

“Okay, but lotsa chicks are into kinky stuff now. There's these books.”

“Ugh, we can discuss how awful 50 Shades is later. I've had these feelings since I was a teenager. I wanted to be with someone who wanted to do it with me and who wanted _me_. I gave it up for a long time and it wasn't too hard if I wasn't alone. I thought loving someone would make me happy enough. Then I fell in love with Kendra and told her everything about what I liked.”

“That go over like a fart in church?”

Ray choked on a piece orange pulp. “Hmf! No, actually she as pretty cool with it. Enthusiastically participating even while we were stranded in the past. When we got back on the ship it was as if she was embarrassed by the way I'd behaved. Maybe she thought it was some weird coping strategy on my part and that we could literally leave it behind us. She wanted her normal boyfriend. I loved her so much. I ended up ignoring every red flag she threw in my face. We just weren't going to get happily ever after.”

“That sucks. Had a girlfriend shoot me once. It's not the same but since we're sharing.”

“If you keep making me laugh we are never going to get through this.”

“Yeah we will. We just won't feel as crappy about it. That's my theory anyway.”

“Pass the not milk, Doctor Rory. I know I didn't handle the breakup well. I thought I was okay at first, but somewhere along the line I decided that it was a sign that no one would ever want me unless I made myself good enough. You saw me as a kid. I had a good life, but my dad.” He paused for a moment. “My dad wasn't around because he had decided he didn't want to be husband and father. He just left us. He became the model of what I didn't ever want to be. I was going to be better than him. I was going to be a good man.”

“Ray, you couldn't be bad if you tried. Though, have you ever actually tried? I'd like to travel to that time period and see that show.”

Ray tried to smile. “I thought I could make myself better if I followed some rules.”

Mick made a 'gimme' motion. “C'mon. We both know you wrote 'em down.” Ray opened his nightstand table and handed Mick a small notebook. Mick flipped through it.

“No sex. No porn. Punishment for dreaming about sex. Is this seriously a schedule for when you're allowed to jerk off? Jesus Ray, how did this make sense?”

Ray shrugged. “I don't know! It did at the time, and I didn't plan to do it forever. Just things kept rolling along and I couldn't stop. When Martin died I did something that got me hurt. I started thinking that I deserved to be hurt. Wasn't hard to get my fix usually. Like you said, I have a very punchable face.”

Mick sighed. “I said that once! You still feeling like hurting yourself?” Ray swallowed hard, not really knowing the answer.

“Not at the moment. I can see that it hasn't been healthy for me, but I still feel like I should.”

Mick leaned forward and nudged his knee. “It's okay. I didn't think you were gonna just snap out of it. This is day one.”

Ray took a deep breath and nodded. “Day one. That's good. Start over.”

“Everybody's taking the day off. I've already warned 'em to leave you alone and get their own shit done. But you should probably come to the lab and tell me where to put stuff.”

“Mick I'm not an invalid.”

“Haircut, let someone fuss over you for a whole five minutes, okay?”

“Oh all right, but just five minutes.”

xxx

Ray woke up the next morning feeling unusually warm. Not too many blankets warm, but the kind of heat that comes from another person in the same bed. He didn't panic. He knew it was Mick. He just had to figure out how and why they had progressed from talking to cuddling while he was asleep.

Information was forthcoming. “You had a nightmare and almost thrashed yourself onto the floor. Figured this was easier than trying to pick you up. Nicer for me too.”

The last comment gave Ray butterflies in his stomach. Then he noticed that his underpants were uncomfortably tight and remembered he wasn't wearing his cage.

Mick poked him in the ribs. “You thinkin' about getting out of bed sometime today?”

“Sure. In a minute.”

“Don't worry about _it_. Go take care of yourself in the shower.”  
Ray frowned. “It's not...um, I mean...”

“Yes, today is the day. I altered your schedule based on the mean frequency of self-gratification for men your age.”

“You mean Gideon did and you just memorized what she said.”

“Just go beat off, Ray. I had to keep you from punching yourself in the dick at 5 AM. Not cool.”

“Fine,” Ray grumbled but did as he was told. He had to admit he felt less agitated as he prepared breakfast.

He made Mick use a plate for his doughnut and slid a banana to him across the table. “Mick, yesterday you said you were afraid to be with me while I was working on the fire totem. Did I do something to upset you, or make you uncomfortable? Because that's the last thing I want.”

Mick peeled the banana. “I was gonna ask you that.”

“Huh?”

“You're not the only one with rules, Haircut. Rule number one is never let anyone get close. Because if people know I have feelings they can hurt me. The only thing you've ever done is try to be my friend. I don't make it easy. Besides, you flirting with me wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.”

“Really?”

“Really. But there'll be time for that later. Right now I need you safe, healthy, and ready to kick ass. So I want you to give me your word that you won't hurt yourself. You come find me if things are getting too much for you. I won't leave you hanging.”

“Okay. I promise. We'll get through this. Um, can I hug you, Mick?”

“Real quick before anybody else gets in here.”

xxx

The Legends pulled off an epic victory. Ray threw his own plan out the window and saved Nora Dahrk. Mick allowed himself to part with the fire totem. It had served it's purpose. Finally they could go back to Aruba.

As their first day in the sun wound down Ray found a quiet moment to talk to Nate about Amaya's departure. “I'm sorry, buddy,” he said with utter sincerity. “I know you knew there was a chance, but that doesn't make it hurt less. I've been there, and I let it take me down some twisted paths. So if you ever wanna talk, or not talk, or punch things, I'm here.”

“Or set things on fire,” Mick added, handing him a margarita. Nate looked suspicious. “What- I like to help how I can.”

Mick nudged Ray's arm. “Speaking of help, come with me Haircut.”

Ray followed Mick down the beach unsure of where they were headed. “Tiny science lady sent me the name of someone who she thinks can help you out.”

“Wow, and here I was thinking this was a romantic stroll.”

Mick stared at him, blinking slowly. “Anyway you should call and make an appointment and tell me when it is.”

“Really, you'll come with me?”

“Said I would. We have time to work on this stuff now. I'll help you get better and also do some research to figure out how to be a dominant or whatever so I can do ya how you like.”

Ray stopped in his tracks; his mouth hung open. “Wow. I was not expecting that level of assistance.”

Mick seemed puzzled. “What did you think I meant? Shit, did I imagine we discussed this already? That happens sometimes.”

Ray reached for the other man's hand, and for the first time Mick let him take it. “Back up a bit. You're attracted to me, and you want to have an intimate relationship with me?”

“Yeah, I gotta fill out some forms or is takin' a walk on a beach in the moonlight getting' the point across?”

“Oh, so you were being romantic. I like it.”

“Don't mention it, to anyone ever. That mean you accept the offer?”

  
“Yes! We have so much to talk about.” Ray squeezed his hand and let it go as they resumed their walk.

“I was afraid of that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading. There will be a part two, but it's only half-formed in my head yet.


End file.
